


wreck my plans, that's my man

by casuallysavingtheworld



Series: wherever you stray, i follow [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Ambassador Luke Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Anakin kills Palapatine, Canon Divergence - Happy Skywalker Family, Canon Divergence - The Republic Doesn't Fall, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, M/M, Mentions of Obi-Wan & Ahsoka, Not A Jedi Luke Skywalker, Slow Burn, mand'alor din djarin, star wars canon and i have beef
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 43,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29050749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casuallysavingtheworld/pseuds/casuallysavingtheworld
Summary: Luke Skywalker-Naberrie is sent on a diplomatic mission to Mandalore, on behalf of the Republic. He plans on getting the work done and leaving as soon as he can after the two years is up, but that was before he meets the Mand'alor.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Series: wherever you stray, i follow [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2131293
Comments: 80
Kudos: 441





	1. life was a willow, and it bent right to your wind

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So I've been wanting to write this since I wrote 'i take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover' which is what happens after/during this fic? If you've read it, I've changed a bit of the story Luke tells Anakin about him and Din in order for this to flow better! I don't know how many chapter this will be, but I know it won't be the slowest slow burn you've read, but yeah. 
> 
> A couple of things before I let you go...1) I've decided I hate Star Wars swear words, so sorry about that if that a piece of canon you really like! 2) I've given Luke two lightsabers in this because it's my au and I do what I want, and also I just really want to see Luke kick ass as a duel-wielder like Ahsoka 3) I don't know much about Star Wars politics, I've done as much research as possible to make it coherent and accurate as possible! 4) I do have most of the second chapter written already, but my classes do start next week, so I have no promises on any update schedule at this time, if I can get the next three chapters done soon then there's a good chance it will have a weekly update schedule 5) I do not currently have a beta reader, so general apologies for any misspellings, missed words, etc.!
> 
> Thank you so much checking this out! I hope you enjoy!

“I’m Luke Skywalker-Naberrie, I’m here to act as the ambassador for the Republic to help Mandalore during the transition into alliance with the Republic, as well as the treaty that will help protect Mandalore’s ancient traditions going forward.” 

His voice echoes through the throne room, bouncing off the walls. To say Luke was a bit intimidated would be an understatement. He glances around, trying to make eye-contact with  _ someone,  _ but he should have known better with Mandalorians. So, there Luke stands, hands crossed behind him, trying to summon some part of his father, mother or hell, even Leia, to be able to look respectable, but it’s hard, while politics might be injected into his bloodstream by the Maker, he was never really cut out for it. 

Especially with the Mand’alor staring down at Luke like he had just royally offended someone on purpose, but that may just be the helmet. Already, Luke is not a huge fan of the emotionless facade the Mandalorians have going on. His father is Anakin Skywalker for fuck’s sake, he’s more used to more emotions brewing over during simple conversations than anyone should be. 

“The Jedi.” The woman on the Mand’alor’s right said, and Luke takes a deep breath instead of rolling his eyes. 

“I am not a Jedi.” He responds, glancing down at his outfit, which is more reminiscent of something his Uncle Bail would wear than what Obi-Wan or his father wears. 

“But you carry a Jedi’s weapon at your hip, and your father has set you on the same path as he went on, am I not correct?” She sneers, and Luke realizes he will have to ask his father why he insists on being on half the galaxy’s shit list.

“Yes, my father  _ was  _ a Jedi.  _ I am not a Jedi _ , like my father before me. Yes, I have trained in the Jedi arts, but I have not sworn any creed to the Jedi Order, my teaching was done outside of the order,” Luke corrects again, trying to stay as palatable as possible. 

He wishes he never listened to his father, or his mother, and especially his sister when they convinced him to take this assignment. The woman turns to the Mand’alor, leaning over to whisper something. Luke rolls back his shoulders, reaching into the Force, he listens to the hum of the kyber crystals that sits in his sabers, trying to find some peace in it. He barely lets his mind drift when he notices the blazing presence of a force user somewhere nearby. Their presence feels intoxicating, so young and pure, like the world hasn’t even touched it yet. He has to find the source, the thing that it embodied. 

He snaps himself out of it, trying to at least look interested in what is happening in front of him. He watches as the King and the woman exchange a somewhat heated conversation, and waits until he is addressed again. He has to admit though, as emotionless as the helmets are, the Mand’alor is...not unattractive. The beskar armor is shiny, with some parts of it having gold plating, bouncing the sunlight that streamed in from the many windows that are surrounding him. The red cloak that covers his shoulders is a nice touch, Luke’s eyes trace where it went over the one of the pauldrons. Luke can tell the King is strong from where he stands, and he doesn’t even dare to imagine what he looks like. He glances down at the darksaber, matching the same place Luke carries his own sabers. Perhaps, finally Luke can get more information about the Darksaber, a topic of interest that he could never get any information out of Obi-Wan. 

Luke watches as the pair stop their discussion, The Mand’alor sitting back in his chair, grip tightening on the spear he is holding. Frustration pokes into the Force, but only the woman’s energy is focused on Luke. He tries his best to remain as neutral as possible, tucking his feelings of annoyance away, knowing they will not help him in this situation. 

“Jedi,” Luke resists the urge to roll his eyes again, “You will stay in the Palace, however you are not to talk with the Mand’alor unless in a discussion about the treaty or any other circumstance that needs you around. You are allowed access to the library, and will be allowed two personal comms calls a week, they will be monitored by one of our staff. You will be allowed to walk around the city, but not without a guard so you don’t get into any trouble. The only reason we will allow you to keep your sabers, is because that is the reason why you are in front of us and not a platoon of soldiers.” 

Wow, they are not going easy on him, are they?

“I accept these conditions, and I look forward to working with you during this transition period,” Luke says, a bright, and fake, smile on his face. He waits for the woman to speak up again, to dismiss him or something. 

“Dune, will you escort Ambassador Skywalker-Naberrie to his rooms, please?” The Mand’alor says, and Luke’s heart stops for a moment. His voice is deeper than what Luke originally imagined. The woman to the Mand’alor’s right scoffs. 

Dune happens to be the only other person in the room without a helmet. She steps forward to stand next to Luke, she’s stocky, muscular and strong. She wears Mandalorian armor, painted but it’s not like the others in the room. More fluid, if that’s the best way to explain it. Luke won’t deny she’s pretty, but she looks more like Leia’s type than Luke’s. Dune gives him a bright smile which Luke is inclined to return truthfully, leaving his politician smile to the rest of the room. She nods her head towards the door, and Luke gives the Mand’alor a bow, feeling the intensity of the stare that the man is giving him. 

Turning, Luke follows Dune out the large doors he entered from. The hallway echoes with their footsteps, passing the guards that line the walls. She turns her head towards him, giving him a once over, before raising a hand towards him.

“Cara Dune, it’s a pleasure to meet someone from the galaxy’s royal family,” She says, and Luke laughs, a real laugh, one that his father would call his sunshine laugh, which made Luke’s heart ache. He misses his family so much already. 

“Luke, and I’ll take that as a compliment?” He questions, giving her hand a shake.

“Well, not even Bo-Katan can deny the things that your family has done to put the galaxy back on track after what happened during the Clone Wars, even if she seems to have it out for Jedi,” Cara says, and Luke shrugs, trying not to get caught up on the Jedi comment. 

“My parents are quite the pair, I’m grateful for all the things they’ve taught me.” 

“Yeah, and your sister? I’ve heard about the work she’s doing with the Naboo sector in the Senate, I know even Mando is impressed.” Luke pauses, lifting an eyebrow in her direction. 

“Mando?” 

“The Mand’alor.”

“He lets you call him Mando?” Luke asks, with a bit of a laugh in his voice. 

“Well, can’t let someone from the Republic know that the Mand’alor has a name,” Cara shoves her elbow into Luke’s side, and if Leia wasn’t talking to that Han guy that they met on their last visit to Coruscant, he would give her Leia’s comm code in a heartbeat. 

“Of course,” He says quietly, and Cara stops in front of a pair of doors. 

“These are your rooms.” She pushes open the doors, “It’s probably best if you stay here as much as possible, until someone can convince Bo-Katan to get the stick out of her ass, but if you want any company, I know you have some good stories to tell. I’ll ask around about food, hopefully you can handle some spice.” 

He steps inside his rooms, a large living area sits in front of him, with a couple of doors leading elsewhere on the sides of the room. The windows are large, letting sunlight drift to the floor, and it’s nice. It’s not ‘Naboo in the evening summer sun surrounded by his friends and family’ nice, but it’s perfect for now. He has couches, tables, and bookshelves, even a desk in the corner. It’s honestly more than enough. He spies his luggage in the corner, near one of the closed doors. 

“Thank you, Cara, this is lovely. Please send my appreciation to the Mand’alor for me.” Luke smiles, and she bids him farewell, telling him that someone will stop by later to check in. The door echoes when she shuts it behind him. 

There’s something familiar about the room, like he’s been here before, but also never. The Force echoes with something, a moment in time, something that Luke feels like he should remember, but he pushes it out of his head. There are so many things the Force has asked him to know, that whatever this is, will just have to wait. 

Luke opens all the doors in his room. His bedroom is off to the right, with quite a large bed in the center with a canopy of fabric hanging around it, with a connecting bathroom to the side. There’s a balcony on the left, which is nice, he’ll be able to stargaze when he inevitably cannot sleep. He unclips his lightsabers, and places them on the nightstand, 

Luke moves his luggage into his room, slowly taking out his clothing and placing it in the wardrobe, smoothing them out just like he remembers watching his mother do on their political trips to Coruscant, taking care of each item of clothing like it was sacred.

As he finishes this task, Luke notices a letter slipped into the bottom of his trunks, his mother’s handwriting sweeping across the envelope. He smiles, moving over to the bed to sit, breaking the wax seal, slowly opening it. 

_ Dearest Luke,  _

_ I know it will be a few days until we hear from each other, but I wanted you to have physical proof of how proud of you we all are. Your father and I understand that this is a big step for you, and we cannot wait to see the young man you continue to grow into. I am excited to hear about your adventures, from the Senate meetings and our own comm calls. I made sure to send some hot chocolate in your trunk, I know the nightmares calm down a bit after a bit of stargazing and hot cocoa. It’ll be okay.  _

_ Stay safe, sweet Luke.  _

_ Much love,  _

_ Mother _

Tears prick his eyes, and he sets the letter aside. Searching through one of his other trunks, he finds the Naboo hot cocoa, the one he was raised on, and had pretty much all but injected into his veins at this point. He smiles, seeing a drawing from his father on the top of it, of his father catching him in a headlock, as Leia watched, egging them on. It was little things like this that reminded Luke how much his family loved him, and how hard it is going to be over the next two years, already feeling incredibly isolated and alone. 

Setting the tin to the side, Luke wipes his eyes. He continues to unpack, trying to focus on something other than his aching heart.

* * *

He gets to talk to his family for the first time a week later. He’s sitting in the living room area of rooms he’s been given, at the desk. In the hologram, his family smiles brightly at him, and Luke is happy that they could all be together for his first call home. Cara sits in the corner, trying to give him the idea of privacy, which he appreciates. 

“Yes, Mother, everything is going fine, we haven’t met for any Republic business, but the Palace is lovely so far,” He says, and for the first time in days, a genuine wave of calmness rolls over him, and Luke is content. 

His family is illuminated in the soft blue light of the comm call, all of them squished together on the couch. 

_ “Is the Mand’alor as intimidating as they say he is?”  _ Leia pipes up. 

“Yeah, Leia, he is...I haven’t had a chance to speak with him yet, but from the first meeting in the throne room, I would say yes.” 

“ _ Is Bo-Katan giving you a hard time, because I’m sure Ahsoka will call her up and give her a good kick in the ass for us.”  _ Luke rolls his eyes at his father, always so protective. He wonders if it’s harder for his father with Luke being gone. 

“No, that won’t be necessary, she’s fine. A little rough around the edges, but definitely not as bad as Leia,” He hears his sister scoff, while his mother lets out one of her magic laughs, the one that tells Luke no matter how far away he might be from them right now that it will all be okay. 

_ “We love you, Luke,”  _ His mother’s voice will always be calming,  _ “The Senate is very anxious to see how this turns out. If it all goes well, I’m sure you could have an offer from one of the Offices as soon as you step back onto Naboo.”  _

Luke doesn’t have the heart to tell her that being a politician is the last thing he wants to do, even while he still has no idea what he does want to do. This is the exception, a favor for his mother, who knew that he would be the only person cut out for the job. 

“Thanks Mother,” Luke quickly glances over to Cara, who almost looks to be in awe of his family, “I should go, I have some things to take care of.” 

His family says their goodbyes, and the holo of them vanishes as he ends the call. He sits there for a moment, staring into the empty space that his family once filled, and the loneliness seeps into him like the cold of space. Luke takes a deep breath, and turns in his chair to face Cara. 

“Where are the gardens? I heard they’re amazing here,” He asks, and she smiles.

* * *

During his fifth week at the Palace, Luke is walking down the hallway when his heart jumps into his throat. Stopping where he stands, he swears he’s seeing a ghost. It might be a ghost from his nightmares, but it’s a ghost nonetheless. 

The Mand’alor stands at the end of the hallway, with different members of his cabinet surrounding him. Hushed voices make their way to Luke’s ears, but he doesn’t hear what they are saying. He doesn’t care about the meeting he’s accidentally stumbled on. Luke feels cold, all the blood rushing to his heart to help it keep beating, and Luke’s mouth goes dry. 

The man who grabs his attention the most, is the one in dark green armor, freshly painted. He holds his helmet in the crook of his arm, and Luke can’t help but see his uncle Rex in him. Luke has seen visions of this man. In them, he is worse for wear, armor chipping and old. In Luke’s nightmares, the man is trying to kill him in a house in the middle of the desert, or carting Han who is frozen in carbonite away or falling into a sarlacc pit, never to be seen again. In Luke’s nightmares, this man always dies. 

And now, he’s staring right at him. Everyone is staring right at him, and Luke blinks, slowly backing away. Luke’s eyes flicker over to the Mand’alor, whose head is tilted in Luke’s direction, and he realizes how dumb he must look right now, mouth hanging open. He’s already not trusted here, and there he is, apparently eavesdropping. His fingers tighten around the book he’s holding. 

“My apologies,” Luke whispers, before turning to go back the way he came, feeling all the eyes on his back. 

He hurries to his rooms, putting one foot in front of the other, trying to keep his breath under control, sabers knocking against his thighs. He follows the twists and turns of the Palace hallways, pointedly ignoring the stares from guards and servants. Luke almost collapses against the door once he gets inside, leaning back against the door. 

He should be better at this, he had grown up seeing his sister, his father and his mother everyday, haunted by memories of them, moments in a time that no longer exists. He has spent his whole life watching visions of his mother dying while giving birth to them, his father falling to the dark side to save her but it was all in vain, and his sister, ripped apart from him so long ago that they never even got the chance to be family. The Skywalker-Naberries were broken in these nightmares, and still, Luke wakes up and faces his family. 

Maybe...Luke just never expected to experience this feeling with anyone other than his family and friends. Even running into Han by accident didn’t make him feel like this. Maybe Luke is sick of seeing ghosts, in his father, the monster he could have been, in his mother and the life that was taken from her. 

He takes a deep breath, slowly straightening. The rooms still ache with something, and Luke has discovered the feeling is almost like loss, like someone left this room behind and never returned, and the Force didn’t like that. He still wonders why it’s calling out to him though. 

Luke moves to the bedroom, opening the balcony door, and sitting just inside them. Crossing his legs, he unclips his lightsabers from his belt, placing them in front of him, and closes his eyes. Hopefully, meditation will help calm his mind and lead him to some answers...it doesn't.

* * *

Another month passes before Luke gains the courage to ask Cara who the man in green armor is, as Luke has never heard it in his visions. 

His name is Boba Fett and his father was Jango, the man who provided his DNA for the creation of the Republic’s clone army. He and the Mand’alor crossed paths before he won the Darksaber, and Boba is a trusted aide. Both of them used to be bounty hunters before this life. 

Luke wonders how many people from his visions he has yet to meet, and what other ghosts he’ll run into while he’s here.

* * *

While listening to Koska Reeves argue with another council member about a truly insignificant part of the treaty, Luke thinks about the last two months. It’s been pretty boring, which he knows he should be grateful for. Luke goes to meetings, he eats alone in his room, he reads, he meditates, he tries not to scream when he wakes from the nightmares, he spends his days racking his head why the Force is so attached to this room. He tries to reach out to the Force Presence without a response. Luke sits out in the gardens and tries not to think about home. 

He spars with Cara, who’s a good fighter, more physical than Luke, but she’s become a good friend during this time. He loves the library, late nights spent trying to learn more about Mandalorian culture to try to be the best ambassador he can. His calls with his family leaves him aching for home, and he hates that someone has to be there every time he calls them, but it keeps him from breaking down and sobbing in front of them like a child. 

The longing for home sits in his chest more than ever, slowly growing. Luke considers using one of his comms calls to talk to Obi-Wan, ask him about his time on Mandalore, see if he can give him any insight into any of this. But...now he sits in one of the meetings, trying to not pinch his nose and his nose like his father does with him. 

“I would heavily encourage you to allow a senator to take a place for Mandalore in the Senate, either one the people elect, or one that the Mand’alor elects, it would make information that the Republic receives about you a lot easier to manage yourselves, instead of the rumors floating around,” Luke says, a bit cold, a bit harsh, but Bo-Katan does not want to listen to him. 

“And have someone who will just be in the Republic’s pocket?” Koska grumbles, crossing her arms across her chest. 

They’ve been having this same argument for the last three meetings, with Luke encouraging them to move forward with actually being a part of the Republic and Bo-Katan putting her foot down. It makes Luke wonder what he’s doing there. He glances around, trying not look directly at the Mand’alor, but he can’t help it. He’s in all pure beskar, there’s no gold plating this time, and Luke can’t help but be drawn to him. He’s only said a couple of things in the meetings, quick sentences that calm the room when the disagreements get too loud. He’s magnetic. 

“The whole point of this treaty, and having an alliance with the Republic, means having someone who is a part of the Republic and Mandalore easily communicate with both sides, and continue to remain neutral to both sides. A senator who can have votes in what the Republic decides, would be the best option for Mandalore, in order for your planet to avoid being stronghold into something like, being mined for your beskar and not being able to keep it as a resource for yourselves any longer.” Luke explains, and he’s had conversations with his baby cousins that have gone more smoothly than this. 

“He’s right.” The Mand’alor speaks, and Luke tries his hardest not to whip his head around to wear he sits at the head of the table. 

“But-” Bo-Katan tries again, and he raises a hand to stop her. 

“It would be in our best interest to do whatever we can to protect ourselves moving forward, if the Ambassador believes that the best option is that there should be a Mandalorian representative in the Republic Senate, then that would be the best option,” The Mand’alor sums up everything Luke has been trying to say for so long. 

Luke hides a little smile to himself about the fact that he’s being stood up for, he feels as though all of his advice and information have been ignored thus far, but it’s nice to know that the Mand’alor is listening. 

“Exactly, now the next step is to figure out what type of election is going to be held, but I’ll have to talk to the Senate committee about all of this before we really start moving forward, but it is something we could start discussing now,” Luke says, turning his body towards the Mand’alor. He nods his head for Luke to continue talking. 

“Now the two options going forward are either the Mand’alor elects someone or the people do. Now, I don’t know how elections have gone here in the past, but it would give an opportunity for the people to have a say for themselves. However, that would mean the person who they could elect may not be the person best suited for job, or who works best with the Mand’alor, and the cabinet.” Luke explains, and various members of the meeting nod their heads. 

“And what do you think would be best?” The low voice of the Mand’alor asks, and Luke begs his heart to stop racing like that, like it’s gonna break any minute. 

“I grew up on Naboo, so I’m impartial to elections, I think it’s always good for the people to be heard, no matter how efficient their leader is,” Luke says carefully, trying his hardest to not offend anyone, especially feeling Bo-Katan stare daggers into his head. 

“Then, maybe that’s for the best,” He says, and Luke’s heart stops racing, and clenches instead. 

The Mand’alor stands, and everyone rises with him, he nods as his way to say goodbye, and Luke wishes he could deny the butterflies that erupt in his stomach when the visor meets his eyes for the briefest of moments. Then, he’s gone, moving out of the room with grace, the red cloak flowing behind him as he goes. Being the next one up, Bo-Katan is on the Mand'alor's heels so fast, Luke would have thought she was a kaadu. The other members of the meeting slowly make their way out of the room, and Luke sinks back into his chair instead of moving out of the room, his mind replaying what just happened over and over again. 

“You okay, kid?” Cara’s voice jolts Luke out of his daydreams, shaking his head to get the thoughts out of it. 

“Yeah, I just have to figure out how to tell the Senate committee that they will need to potentially make room for another set of representatives,” He sighs, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, while Cara lets out a big laugh. 

“Well, that’s what they hired you for, isn’t it?” Luke shrugs, and she claps him on the shoulder, which stings more than Luke feels like it should, “You and me, sparring grounds, let's say...an hour?” 

Her eyes are shining with the thought of kicking Luke’s ass, and he can’t say he blames her. Luke smiles, one of the true smiles that would have his father putting him in a headlock and calling Luke ‘his sunshine son’. 

“See you there.”

* * *

Staring into the fire crackling before him, Luke starts to drift off. He’s been researching the ancient Jedi-Mandalorian wars over the last month of his time on Mandalore. He’s been here for three months already and they’ve all started fading together. There’s not much going on, still slowly working through the Senate issues, moving forward. Staring at the Mand’alor from afar, constantly wondering what he’s thinking about, and also wondering he’s actually ever going to get a real conversion with the man, but Luke thinks that Bo-Katan would kill him if he ever got the chance too.

Looking at the books in front of him, Luke has vague memories floating around his head about asking Obi-Wan about his time here, but there is nothing that stands out. There are bits and pieces he remembers from his readings as a young teenager about them, but they were certain that the Jedi won, just because the Mandalorians had all but lost their home world. The Mandalorian Wars were different, and even through his research, there’s too much information to sort through, given it was a sixteen year long rage against each other, Mandalorians versus the Republic and the Jedi, really...all Luke sees is the influence that Siths have always had on the government. 

Sitting back in his chair, he thinks about what life would have been like back then, being a Jedi fighting in wars, trying to maintain peace in a universe that seems so hellbent on falling apart. He remembers Obi-Wan telling him about the Clone Wars, and how much Obi-Wan didn’t want to be a general, but he did his job, fighting the battles that they needed to, in order to win the war. Obi-Wan wasn’t really a fighter, not at his core, he was truly what the Jedi should be in Luke’s eyes. Capable warriors, yes, but peacekeepers who use words first and action later. The fire burns red before him, as Luke’s eyes start to flutter shut, his books forgotten on the table in front of him. 

_ His saber burns green into the night, his chest heaving. He points it at the Mandalorian in front of him, who’s helmet has been knocked off in their initial fight. The man holds two beskar swords, he’s in a fighting stance, ready to strike Luke at any moment. His armor reflects the color of the lightsaber, the two of them the only ones for miles, Luke assumes both of them were out on a patrol. A part of Luke hates himself for finding the man beautiful, his enemy, one of the many people who was trying to rip this galaxy apart.  _

_ “Jetii,” The man sneers, and Luke leans back on his heels, waiting for the Mandalorian to move. _

_ “Mandalorian,” Luke replies.  _

_ “You’ve seen my face, which now means one of us has to die.”  _

_ “It would be an honor dying in battle.” _

_ Luke moves first, saber clashing against beskar. The man is quick, deflecting every single one of Luke’s blows, and Luke wants this to be a fight that doesn’t have to end in death, wishing that in a different life the two could have understood each other more. Luke hates this war, all of it just a ploy for more battles, more fighting. This isn’t what Luke wanted, he was a peacekeeper. Luke is a Jedi, not a warrior, he’s not like this man.  _

_ Luke grunts, trying to push the man back, trying to get him to miss a step, trying to get the upper-hand, but the man is smart, a well trained fighter with decades of experience, and it shows. Sweat drips into Luke’s eyes, and he flips up in the air, swiftly kicking the man in the face, landing and pushing his saber up, and into the man’s abdomen, just under his ribs.  _

_ He moans in pain, falling to his knees, clutching his wound, and Luke turns, watching the man’s beautiful brown eyes stare up at him, angry, bitter...and sad. Luke cannot blame him, watching blood drip out of the man’s mouth, eyes closing in pain. His swords land in the dirt beside him.  _

_ “A worthy opponent, is all a Mandalorian could ask for in death,” The man chokes out, and Luke reaches over, tears pricking his eyes, pulling the man into his arms.  _

_ Resting him across his legs, Luke doesn’t say anything, just wanting the man to know he’s not alone in this, in his death. The man stares up at him, a bit of awe in his eyes, and Luke wonders how many Jedi he has killed, and how many of his brothers and sisters have been killed by supposed peacekeepers the Jedi were. A soft breeze rolls through.  _

_ The man coughs up blood, and Luke pushes the hair out his face, long curly brown locs that someone, somewhere, must be missing running their fingers through.  _

_ “Din...my name is Din.” The man coughs, face pale and cold under Luke’s hand. A tear rolls down Luke’s face, and he quickly wipes them away, so they don’t drip onto Din’s face.  _

_ “Luke,” He gives in return, and a small smile appears on Din’s face, still a bit bitter, still a bit angry, and Luke still cannot blame him. Din has become another casualty of a blood war, one that seems endless, and Luke knows he will probably face a similar fate, just another faceless body on a field somewhere.  _

_ “It’s an honor, dying by a warrior’s hand, Jetii Luke.” _

_ The man lets out one last breath, and Luke shuts his eyes, sending a blessing out into the Force for Din. He doesn’t know how the man would like to be buried. Luke glances up at the stars, realizing he doesn’t know these constellations, and he feels even more lonely. Slowly pushing him onto the ground, Luke turns and starts digging a shallow grave for the man, hoping that it would be okay. He doesn’t want Din to become another faceless body, he wants to remember him.  _

_ After Luke finishes the grave, he carefully lifts Din’s body and places it inside, repeating a soft blessing of honor as he pushes the dirt over him. Luke takes the swords and places them over him, a warrior even in death.  _

_ Luke brushes the dirt off his robes, as he stands. Giving one last look to the Mandalorian’s grave, he turns to go back to his fellow Jedi, head hanging low.  _

Luke wakes up with a start, still in the library. He must have fallen asleep at the table, the fire now coals in front of him. He rubs his face, picking the sleep out of his eyes. Slowly, Luke stands stretching, when he notices all his books and notes were stacked and organized, which they weren’t before. 

What was more interesting though, was a new stack of books left behind, with a note that has ‘ _ Ambassador Skywalker-Naberrie’ _ written on it, nothing else. Wiping the drool at his mouth, Luke looks around for any sign of anyone else. The library is quiet, and Luke can only assume the Palace has long gone to sleep. Gathering the new stack of books, he stands, letting out a large yawn. 

He makes his way out of the library, and as he walks down the hallway, moonlight leaking in from the windows, Luke picks up the note. He wonders who wrote it, sweeping handwriting that reminds him of his mother’s. Distantly, he hears footsteps, and Luke looks up to see who would be awake at this hour. His sleep-heavy eyes barely catch the red cloak that trails behind the person in front of him, who rounds the corner, and disappears. Luke wonders if he’s still dreaming, because the color the cape reminds him of the same color the Mand’alor always wears. 


	2. wonderstruck, blushing all the way home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I am very happy that I managed to get this done before too long went passed! Thank you all for the kind comments on the first chapter, sorry for not responding, it's been kind of a hectic week. I do not have a beta, so apologies for any spelling mistakes, missing words, etc.! EDIT: I forgot to say, but I view Cara in this as a young Lucy Lawless, because it makes me happy :)

_He’s there, he’s on the ledge again, crawling away from the man-the machine-whatever he was, lumbering over to him, lightsaber, red, evil, humming with a brokenness that Luke will never understand, and his heart breaks over and over and over again._

_He’s been here before, he’s sure of it, somewhere, somehow, in a different universe, where the Force tore itself apart, slowly trying to put it together piece by piece, and Luke cannot be here anymore, he doesn’t want to see this again. Luke aches, with a thrum of something that not even the Force can sew back together, and Luke hates it, hates how the thing in front of him burns from the inside out and the ruin and pain that radiates off of him and into Luke._

_He looks up trying to find some amount of connection in the creature’s eyes, but he can’t- the mask stops him from that. All Luke sees is the blackness of a cave, something monstrous waiting at the bottom of it, wanting to eat him alive and leave his bones for someone to find thousands of years later._

_“Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father,” The man sneers, hand reaching out to Luke._

_He wants to scream, beg and borrow time from the Force to get him out of this nightmare, this feeling, Luke feels like he’s about to combust. Force, the man in front of him burns like every part of him is still on fire, he’s felt it before, he hated it then and he hates it now._

_“He told me enough! He told me you killed him!” Luke yells, clutching his maimed arm to his chest, trying to find a part of himself, where he didn’t feel so fucking broken._

_The thing in front of him pauses, the fucking respirator the only noise between the two._

_“No. I am your father.”_

_The man says it so plainly, and each time it’s the truth. The man in front of him is Anakin Skywalker, broken and ruined, and that isn’t fair, this isn’t fair and Luke hates the force for continuing to place him in his position over and over again. Luke screams out in pain, the aching in his chest only growing larger, like a blackhole waiting, edging towards a collapse, and once again, everything that Luke has ever known is a lie._

Luke wakes with a jolt, a fine layer of sweat covering him, sheets tangled, chest heaving. His birthmarks sting, just like they always do after a nightmare like this one. He sits up, resting his head against the headboard, trying to himself to calm down, and he’s hoping he didn’t scream out in the middle of the night. He rubs at his right wrist, attempting to ease the ache out of it. Luke throws his sheets off, and stands up, making his way towards the balcony. 

Opening the doors, a wave of fresh air meets him, and Luke sighs. He looks up, staring through the dome and into the night sky, trying to pick out constellations that he’s been reading about in books in the Palace library, finally finishing the stack that the person had left for him a month and a half prior. His eyes land on his favorite one so far, the one a book called, _‘ash'ad’,_ or someone else, and Luke longs to be that sometimes, someone else, in the skies instead of the Son of the Chosen One, plagued with nightmares and wandering thoughts, always about to bolt, but never brave enough to go. 

He sinks down in the chair that he’s dragged out here the last time he woke up with the nightmares, just a couple of days ago. Luke attempts to find some comfort in the plushness of the cushion, reminding him of the days he would crawl into his parents bed instead of staring at the stars. He thinks back to his mother brushing the hair out of his eyes and kissing his forehead, and his father singing songs in a language he can no longer remember. Luke longs to be young again, to be free again. 

Staring up at the stars, Luke rests his head back. It’s not quite mediation, but it’s close enough. He lets his eyes slowly sink shut, listening to the sounds around him. The animals here are so different than he would expect, still allowing birds to fly around the dome, and Luke is happy about that, it reminds him of home, and bird watching with Leia. 

Eventually, he falls asleep, silver armor filling his dreams, and for that distraction, Luke is grateful.

* * *

“How’s the treaty looking, princess?” Cara asks, making her way into Luke’s rooms. Luke glances up from the holopad, his eyes burn from staring at the tiny words on the screen. 

“It’s certainly looking, I’m going to send it over to my mother soon to see what she thinks, but from what I see...there needs to be more protection for Mandalore,” Luke explains, sitting back in his chair, rolling his shoulders, “However, we’ve been approved to move forward with election of the Senators, which is good.” 

Cara gives him a big smile, “At least there is some good news, Mando will be happy to hear that in the next council meeting.” 

Luke hums in response, quick images of the Mand’alor flashing before his eyes. He pushes the thoughts of the man away, gathering up the holopads he had been using for notes, when his hands brush over the note a few weeks prior. He picks it up, letting the light from the window outside shine on the navy blue ink. 

He had kept it, there was something so personal about seeing his name written on a piece of paper, it’s why Mother, Leia and him always insisted on passing notes, making their own paper, and making ink out of the plants in their garden. He had brought some supplies with him, so that he could add pages to his mediation journals and continue to hand-write notes about his own research. 

“Whatcha got there?” 

Luke’s daydreams are broken by Cara’s voice, and his eyes flicker up, watching as she sinks into the chair that she pulled up in front of his desk a couple weeks back. This had been their routine for a few weeks now, as it was nearing his fifth month being here. Every Centaxday after the third week he was here, Cara would come to his rooms and they would have a drink, and she would pull stories about his family out of him. This week, his mother had sent a bottle of Blossom Wine from Naboo, though Cara always had a back up bottle of Narcolethe, in case it was a particularly hard week for either of them. 

He sets down the piece of paper, moving over to continue to organize the holopads, saving all his notes on the treaty to send over with his mother. Looking down at it, Cara reached over and took it, and Luke made no objections, he trusted Cara. She never said anything when he got emotional after comms calls with his family, even though he was always wide open for taunts. She may be one of the only people who trusted Luke, not Ambassador Skywalker-Naberrie, and it gave Luke a bit of home, somewhere that felt so starkly different from where he had grown up. 

As Cara examined the note, Luke got up and went to the side table, picking up the glasses and the wine bottle, along with the bottle opener that was sent along with it. He sets a glass down in front of Cara, and carefully opens the bottle of wine, pouring it for her. He does the same for himself, before sitting down in his chair. 

“Hm...this looks like Mando’s handwriting,” Cara mulls over, staring down at the note, and Luke almost chokes on his drink. 

He coughs out, “The Mand’alor?” 

“Yeah, he only writes notes to-'' Cara stops herself, glancing up at him, seemingly reminding herself that she was not in the presence of someone who the Mand’alor trusted, “Doesn’t matter who, just don’t see him leave notes for many people, that’s all. Probably not him.” 

Luke nods, putting this memory in the back of his mind for later. There was someone in the Mand’alor’s life that was important enough to keep protected from the outside world, and special enough to write handwritten letters to in a galaxy where it was taboo. A small part of Luke’s heart sank, which he cursed himself for, especially because he barely knew the man at all, except what he had heard from others, and what he had assumed from their conversations over the treaty. This crush was just something he had formed out of loneliness, trying to find pieces of attention and affection from anywhere to make him feel better about himself. 

“How is the Mand’alor with everything? I’d ask him myself, but well..” Luke trails off, the implication of the rules he was given when he first arrived hanging in the air, and Cara takes a sip of the wine, nodding. 

“I think that this is new for him, and I know he’s grateful that you’re here to help us along with this, it would be much more difficult with someone else, I’m sure,” She tells him. 

A small blush runs over Luke’s face, and he takes another sip of wine to attempt to hide this. When he doesn’t have the nightmares, the Mand’alor has been sneaking into his dreams, and has been intruding on Luke’s daydreams too. It really started happening over the last month or two, really since the night in the library and Luke hates himself for it. Luke wasn’t even sure it was him that he saw at the end of the hallway. In fact, the two haven’t even had a real conversation yet, not about anything outside the treaty and the political meetings. 

“I’m honored to be helping Mandalore through this time,” He says, setting down his glass. 

Cara tilts her head in his direction, “I hope the Republic understands that this isn’t a random choice that Mando and his cabinet made to join now. After what has happened in the past when Mandalore stood alone, Mando decided it would be best to have support, especially if something were to go wrong that badly again. Protect ourselves going forward. Not all of us like the idea of joining the Republic, but at this point, what happened in the past with us and the Republic, is just bad history.” 

“Of course, I know that most of the Republic is taking this very seriously. My mother was close with one of the former leaders of Mandalore, so I know she’s very protective over this treaty. She would have come herself, but I think Bo-Katan would have a stroke if my father ever stepped on Mandalore,” Luke says, and Cara lets out a big laugh. 

“What is up with Bo-Katan and your family? I gotta know,” Cara questions, and Luke shakes his head, a smile appearing on his face, and shrugs. 

“I think it has something to do with my Uncle Obi, and the fact that my father ends up pissing off every single person he’s ever met in mere minutes of meeting them,” Luke tells her. 

“I cannot believe you call some of the most influential people in the galaxy your aunts and uncles.” 

“Tell me about it, people love using it against me, like I know nothing just because my mother was Vice Chancellor, and Chancellor Organa used to babysit my sister and I when my parents went on vacation,” Luke laughs, and Cara refills his glass, before refilling hers. 

“You’ve probably got so much dirt on these people, it’s almost not funny,” She laughs, taking a sip. 

“Well, there is this really funny story that my Aunt Ahsoka told me about my father and Uncle Obi during the Clone Wars...”

The rest of the evening goes on like that, with Luke and Cara exchanging stories about themselves. Cara even tells him about the first time she met the Mand’alor, claiming that she won their skirmish, though a part of Luke could tell it wasn’t the full story. 

As Cara gets up to leave, Luke thinks about how he should call his Aunt Ahsoka, maybe Obi and Bail too, soon, ask her for more stories...maybe then he wouldn’t feel so lonely whenever he’s left to his own devices.

* * *

Luke makes his way outside, to meet Cara on the sparring grounds. The large trees that sit on the edges of the open space, the exterior walls of the palace are lined with weapons, shining in the sunlight. There's a balcony above them, going around on all four sides, and Luke wonders how often people will watch matches from there. His kyber crystals hummed with the excitement of a fight, hating not being able to get a good spar in often enough, and he can’t blame them. Sparring with Cara may be the most exciting part of his weeks here. 

As he steps out onto the courtyard, he stands for a second, letting the sun hit his face, breathing in the small moments. He can almost picture being back home, listening as his father talked with Obi-Wan and Bail off in the distance, his mother softly humming a traditional Naboo song, and Leia reading to him out loud as he stretched out on the grass. The three of them resting under his favorite tree in the garden. 

“There you are, Princess!” Cara’s voice appears from behind him, and Luke smiles, turning to face her. 

“Dune, you ready to get your ass kicked?” Luke asks, and she cackles, making her way over to him. 

“You kicking my ass? Good luck, Skywalker.” Normally, Luke would have corrected her, with any other person he would have made sure that his last name was Skywalker-Naberrie, but lately, he finds he doesn’t seem to care that much with Cara. 

“What are we thinking today, lightsabers versus some beskar?” He wonders out loud, slipping off his coat to place on the bench that sat near one of the pillars. 

“Sounds like a plan to me,” She answers, crossing the courtyard to the weapons that line the wall.

Luke rolls up his sleeves, and adjusts the collar of the undershirt. He likes this outfit, the design of the pattern on his shoulders were of the Naboo royal crest, an old shirt of his grandfather’s from when his mother was still the Queen. Cara turns back to him, a double edged staff in her hands. Luke readies himself, lightsabers flying to his hands. 

Adjusting his grip, Luke taunts, “Are you sure about that? You can always go for your spear if you want too.” 

“Maybe, I want a bit of a challenge today,” She responds, voice dripping in humor, and Luke leans back on his heels. 

He shuts his eyes for a moment, listening to what the Force is telling him, waiting for Cara to make the first move. The hum of his kyber crystals is comforting, always present. He hears Cara make the first step towards him, and opens his eyes. 

Quickly, Luke ignites his lightsabers, the green light reflecting off her staff, watching as it bore down on him. He deflected easily, side-stepping her, to attack. The easy back and forth was smooth, the clash of the saber against beskar is exciting, something Luke still hasn’t gotten used to since getting here. 

She uses her vambraces to deflect one of Luke’s sabers, while he blocks her attack with the staff with the other. She puts her weight behind her next move, smoothly elbowing Luke in the face, which has him disoriented for a moment, flipping backwards to create some space to recover. 

Smirking, Luke launches back towards Cara, who easily blocks his attack with both sides of her staff, his lightsabers bouncing off the beskar. Cara spins the staff around, using both sides to try and trip Luke up, but he’s quicker, hitting both sides of the staff, sending her staggering backwards. He steps back for a moment, readjusting his grip on his sabers, watching as she moves around him for the best place to strike. 

Cara jets forward, top half of the staff plowing down on Luke and then quickly spinning around to use the other, but Luke quickly flips up and kicks her in the face, which gets a laugh out of her. He rushes forward again, beskar screaming when it hits the plasma of the saber, and he lets Cara use her weight to try and tip them over, then he sinks to the ground, lifting his leg up and pushing up into her stomach, with a bit of the Force behind him, sending her flying to the other side of the courtyard. 

Cara lands on her back with a groan, staff bouncing in the distance, and Luke slowly rises to his feet, chest heaving, waiting to see if she gets up before disengaging his sabers. 

“That was a good one, Princess, I should remember that next time,” She laughs, slowly sitting up, “Where did you learn it?” 

“My aunt, she helped to train my sister and I when it was time to start lessons with our sabers, I happened to pick up her style of fighting more than anyone else’s. Feels smoother, more fluid,” He says, moving over to help her up. He stretches out his hand to her, and she takes it. 

“Thanks,” Cara says, dusting herself off once she’s on her feet. 

Luke nods. He stands back, clipping his sabers to his belt, pushing the sweaty hair out of his face. Moving back over to wear his jacket sits on the bench, he catches the glimpse of something shiny out of the corner of his eye. 

“Oh, hey Mando!” Cara calls out, and Luke turns. 

Standing on the balcony, there is the Mand’alor in all his glory. Staring down at them, his grip tight around his beskar spear. Luke wonders how long he’s been there, watching them. A quick blush runs over Luke’s face, which he hopes can just be attributed to the fight. 

“You shouldn’t let people use your weight against you, Cara, it’s fighting one-o-one.” The low voice of the Mand’alor is always a shock to Luke, even through the modulator. 

“I was going easy on him, Mando, gotta let him have something!” Luke chuckles, shaking his head. 

Luke banters,“You know I won that fight fair and square, Dune,” 

He smiles, buttoning his sleeves around his wrists again. Cara gives a fake gasp of betrayal, hand coming up to cover her mouth and Luke is once again reminded of Leia. He misses their sparring sessions, Leia really knows how to kick his ass. 

“He did, Cara.” 

Luke turns back up to look at the balcony, eyes meeting the visor of the King. For a moment, it feels like it’s only the two of them, and Luke begs the Force to stop trying to push his feelings out into the world, where anyone can understand them. Luke gives him a low nod, a small smile appearing on his face, and the Mand’alor nods back. Respect is there, flowing between them, and Luke desperately wishes that he could speak with him. 

“Mando, is that meeting still happening later?” Dune asks, breaking the moment between the two, Luke tucks his head away, moving to grab his jacket. 

As the two converse, Luke slips his arms into his jacket, and slowly backs out of the courtyard, hoping neither of them will notice he left. 

The Mand’alor watched him fight...and was impressed? From Luke’s research, he understood that this was a high honor. Making his way back to his room, Luke tries not to let it go to his head, running his hands down his face. 

He opens the door to his room, making his way to his bedroom, all but throwing himself on the bed. Luke groans, wishing he could call Leia and have her talk him out of the things that are running through his head.

* * *

Rubbing his temples with one hand, Luke swears he’s going to to lose his mind. The council room is loud with yelling, various council members fighting with each other about what the next step was. They had been approved for the Senator elections, but once again, Bo-Katan put her foot down, and tried to stop it. 

“Why are we still letting someone from the Republic tell us what to do!?” Bo-Katan questions, “Everytime we have let the Republic interfere with our politics, we have ended up fucked over and in ruins!” 

“Kryze...” Fett says under his breath. 

Luke is grateful for the almost allies he has in the majority of the council members, seeing as a lot of them like Bo-Katan less than they like Luke, which he takes as a win. Boba, while not Luke’s biggest fan, had reached out after the incident in the hallway, where Luke had smoothly lied about forgetting his Uncle Rex was a clone, and that Luke was just confused until he remembered later. It was the same lie he told Cara, and all of them seemed to believe it, even if it made Luke look like an idiot. He’d take being considered dumb over people consistently pitying him over the nightmares. 

“No Fett! Tell me one good reason we should be letting some trust fund child who isn’t even a politician nor is he a Jedi, decide what we should do with our planet and our people? The last time we let an outsider into our politics, we were on the verge of collapse.” 

Luke tries not to be offended by his comment, but the frown makes its way to his face before he can try otherwise. Eyes from various council members flicker over to him, and Luke ignores them, focusing his attention on the window, watching as the trees rustle and move the generated wind of the dome. Cara scoffs next to him, and Luke knows this will be the best part of their drink time later in the week. 

“If I remember Mandalore’s history correctly, wasn’t it you who helped lead an insurrection against your own sister? Ending up with The Darksaber in the hands of a former Sith?” Boba points out. 

Luke remembers hearing vague stories about Maul and Uncle Obi helping to save one of the Mandalore leaders, and it ended up in disaster, and the leader was dead. Obi didn’t like to talk about that time very much, but Luke might need more background to move forward, there might be more reasoning behind all the deep-seated anger that lingers in the room. 

“Fett, don’t push it,” The Mand’alor says softly, trying to diffuse the tension. Luke tries not to focus on the low voice behind the modulator, the one that he daydreams about. 

Luke watches as Bo-Katan stares Boba down, the two of them locked in an age old battle. The setting sun in the background told Luke that all of them had been here too long, and the tensions in the room weren’t helping their decisions and productivity. 

Luke chimes in, trying to help, “It might be best if we table this discussion for another time, when-”

“Can it, Jedi. You have no business discussing the matters of Mandalore, and it’s people.” Bo-Katan sneers, “It is your kind who ruined Mandalore. Your family has done nothing but continue to break us down piece by piece, and yet, you are still allowed on our soils. You have no right to be here, telling our king what to do, changing our laws and manipulating our people!” 

“That’s enough Kryze!” The Mand’alor yells, his voice angry and frustrated, and the room falls silent. All the eyes in the room landed on Luke, and he ran his hand down his face, turning his chair to face Bo-Katan. 

“I don’t care how you think about me, if you think I’m just a dumb trust fund kid living off his parents money until the day I die. I don’t care that you keep insisting I am a Jedi, when I am not, and I quite frankly, find it a bit offensive since the Jedi Order is something that is important to people I consider family, no matter my own personal opinions on it. I’m not here to be liked. I’m not here to be anyone’s friend.” Luke’s voice is low, frustration rising in him, “I’m here because the Mand’alor wanted to join the Republic, and I was the best candidate given the circumstances and the boundaries that were laid out. I’m here to help Mandalore, I am not here to stroke your fragile ego. If you doubt me being here, that says more about your doubt in this government, than it does about your feelings about me.” 

Luke’s words ring out in the silent room, and he knows he’s gone a bit too far, but various other council members seem to agree. Cara reaches out and places her hand on Luke’s arm and Luke is grateful for her in a way that he will never be able to say. Bo-Katan looks shocked that he would dare speak out against her, but Luke is sick of this. He took this mission as a favor to his mother, his father, _his family._ He didn’t sign up to be treated like this. 

“If you excuse me,” Luke says, gathering his halopads, before looking at the Mand’alor, who nods, telling him that he can leave. 

Luke gets up, making his way out of the room, eyes following his every move. His footsteps echo in the silence, and Luke hates it. Anger and anxiety bubble at the bottom of his belly, and Luke wishes he was a braver man. He should be better at this, he’s used to people assuming things about him because of his fantastical family. Luke must be cunning and powerful because of his father, incredibly smart and regal because of his mother, straightforward and careful like his Uncle Obi, and strong and capable like his Aunt Ahsoka, but he isn’t. He’s just Luke Skywalker-Naberrie, some kid with the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders, and sometimes he wonders how he has broken under the pressure already. 

He should call his Uncle Obi. He should call his sister. Luke should do a lot of things, and yet, he will always be too scared to do any of them. Maybe, that’s his curse. His father was cursed with seemingly feeling everything at once like electricity under his skin. Maybe, Luke is cursed with never being able to take that next step, jump off the deep end into the unknown. 

He opens the door to his rooms, and looks around it. Various books piles sit on tables, the makings of fresh paper sit in the dying sunlight, his meditation journal filled with the hauntings of his childhood nightmares is in its place on his desk, and once again, Luke feels incredibly alone.

* * *

Cara comes by later that evening with the big bottle of Narcolethe. She finds him sitting on the balcony staring up at the stars, curled in on himself, and part of him flashes back to when he was a child, his father coming to find him after fights with Leia, on his favorite bench in the garden. 

“No one is upset with you, I’d say Mando was even a bit impressed by the fact you were willing to stand up for yourself,” Cara tries to soothe him, but Luke’s anxiety won’t let him take the compliment. 

She places the shot in front of him, and has wide eyes at how smoothly he knocks it back. Luke gives her a bit of a smile. 

“My father is from Tatooine, his taste in liquors is not as refined as my mother’s. The stuff Leia and I stole as teenagers was strong enough to burn the paint off of a speeder. I think, in fact, some of that stuff was meant to take off the paint from speeders,” Luke says, and Cara laughs, before taking a shot of her own. 

He watches as she grimaces a bit, forever reminding him of Leia, both of them good at holding her liquor, but always making a stink face when she takes a shot. 

Luke has never really had many true friends. Sure, there were always Biggs and Wedge, but they were always off adventuring nowadays. The other children growing up were nice, but by the time they were older, they always were using him to get higher up in the galaxy, and Luke found he didn’t care for that kind of attention. It’s why Leia and him clung to each other like they were glued together, they were each other’s person. It’s why he found it so hard to leave home, it was never about the place, it was always about the people. 

“Thanks for being kind, I know no one is particularly excited about me being here and-” Luke starts, and she simply puts up a hand. 

“No need to thank me, that’s what friends are for right?” She says. 

The words are out in the open, spoken like it’s the most simple thing in the world, and Luke can only assume that to people like her, people who don’t have the weight of expectations on their shoulders, a legacy that the galaxy expects him to uphold, it is the simplest thing. 

“Yeah, it is.” 

They smile at each other, before Cara pours him another shot. Watching as Cara grimaces once again, Luke decides it’s nice to have a friend, and that maybe he’s not as alone here as he thinks.

* * *

Another month passes with Bo-Katan threatening him in her head, and Luke attempting not to offend anyone else. They had organized the voting for Senators, something the public seemed to receive somewhat well, at least the press seemed to report it rather well. The committee has a couple of runners in the race, already campaigning, which Luke finds rather humorous to watch as they try to appeal to the Mand’alor, has gone back to being consistently emotionless. Luke has learned to appreciate that from the man, something calming about the contrast to his family life. He takes all the bit of comfort his heart will handle, still always aching from missing home so much. 

Luke wonders if he really is the best person for the job, thinking back to his mother and her rushing into the kitchen that morning, the brightest smile on her face, like she just discovered that Leia had not eaten the last of the blue cookies that were fought over and sought after in the Skywalker-Naberrie household. In his mother’s eyes, and many others, Luke was the perfect candidate. Someone who was trained enough in the Jedi arts to protect themselves and others, but not a Jedi, and someone who was well-versed and knowledgeable of Republic politics without being a politician. 

Luke sits in the garden today, on a bench with the right amount of shade and sun to make his Naboo heart happy. Currently, he was flipping through the book his father sent him, with a long winded note about the argument that Ahsoka and him got into about whether or not Plo Koon could actually create Electric Judgement, which has Luke chucking, missing his aunt and his father’s random arguments that had the whole Skywalker-Naberrie clan in on the discussions. He could use one of those right about now. However, Luke’s thoughts are broken, as the pitter-patter of tiny feet followed by heavier footfalls make their presence known in the garden. 

“No, Grogu! We don’t eat the plants, remember?” Luke’s heart stops, quickly closing the book, and he freezes to the spot he’s sitting, wishing he had picked any other place in the palace to be right now. 

“Grogu, wait! Come back here!” The Mand’alor’s voice got closer, as the pitter-patter of little feet made their way around the corner. 

Luke stares down at the small green child, who peers up at him with the largest eyes Luke has ever seen. The two of them just look at each other, neither of them moving or making noise, when the Force pokes into his space, and there it is...the being whose Force signature was so bright and innocent that it struck Luke to the core. The Child, this must be Grogu, coos and waddles closer to him, reaching his hands up as if he wanted Luke to pick him up. 

“Grogu!” The Mand’alor rounds the corner after the child, and stops when he spots Luke, who gulps, standing up immediately, head bowed. 

Grogu coos, and the Mand’alor smoothly reaches down to pick up the child, who giggles, nuzzling into the man’s arms. 

“Ambassador,” The Mand’alor says, nodding his head in his direction. 

“Mand’alor,” Luke responds.

Luke quickly turns to make his escape. He takes two steps before the Mand’alor clears his throat, making Luke stop again. 

“You don’t have to leave,” The Mand’alor’s voice is low, “We disturbed you, we’ll let you get back to your book.” 

“No! It’s fine, I can go,” Luke says, turning back halfway to see Grogu still making reachy arms towards Luke, which the Mand’alor must notice. 

“You know...the rule that you can’t speak to me outside of treaty and alliance meetings was not my idea,” He says softly, taking a step closer to Luke, closing some of the distance between the three of them. 

Luke’s tongue is dry, maybe from shock, maybe from the fact that he’s having a real conversation with the man that has been sneaking is his way into his dreams, so Luke just nods. The Mand’alor looks him up and down, Luke watching intently as the helmet moves. He wonders why he wore his Jedi robes today, kicking himself for feeling sentimental towards his father today. 

“This is Grogu, my son.” The Mand’alor introduces, staring down at his son, Luke can feel the affection pushing into the Force. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Grogu.” 

Grogu giggles, and Luke can’t help but break into a smile. He can’t deny the kid is cute, and his presence is strong, sturdy almost, despite being so young. The only way Luke can describe it, is the way Leia has always felt, the calming force of nature that comes with having a twin. It’s the presence of someone who knows you without you needing to tell them about yourself. Someone who will always understand, no matter how hard it might be to do so. 

“He looks like one of my father’s old Masters... Master Yoda,” Luke says, and the helmet moves back up towards him. 

“You’ve met one of his kind before?” Luke blinks up, and tries to give a reassuring smile. 

“Yes, two actually, both are Jedi at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, my father was one of Master Yoda’s lineage, a grand-padawan if you will,” Luke explains, and he gets a low hum out of the man. 

“Padawan?” He asks, and Luke shrugs. 

“Student, I would have been one if I had decided to join the Order, but I didn’t. I would have probably had my own padawan at this point.” The Mand’alor just nods, and Grogu reaches out a hand towards Luke, who lifts a finger up for the child to wrap his hand around. Both of the men’s eyes land on the gesture. 

“He’s usually not this comfortable around new people,” The Mand’alor whispers, and Luke blinks in surprise. 

“It’s probably because he can feel my presence in the Force and knows I’m not a threat to you,” Luke responds casually, and the King’s head whips up to him so fast, he thinks he’s gonna have whiplash, and Luke’s mouth has never shut so fast. 

“What did you say?” Luke curses himself for not being able to hold his tongue better, a trait his father so happily passed along to him. 

“Grogu is Force-Sensitive, did you not know that? I could feel his presence the first day I arrived here, he’s strong in the Force.” Luke tries to fix it, but he feels he’s making it worse. 

The King asks softly, “You can sense him? You know about his powers?” 

Luke looks up into the visor, trying to find a piece of him in there. Maybe that's wrong of Luke to think, but he can’t help it. The ever mysterious figure of the King has been a thought in Luke’s mind for so long now, in the past half of a year. Luke has longed to have a real conversation with the man, that now he’s here, really having a conversation, he can’t help but feel like he’s blowing it. 

“Of course.” He can feel the relief from the Mand’alor radiating through the Force, “I could even start to train him if you want, I know that’s not what I’m here to do bu-” 

“Yes.” The man breathes, and Luke cannot help but be enamored by his presence in the Force, comforting and protective, wrapping around his son with such care, similar to how Obi-Wan’s presence has always wrapped around his family, how his father’s presence wraps around Leia and himself, a safe haven of good. 

“Oh, okay,” Luke smiles up at the man. Even with the helmet, even with his quick yes, Luke can tell that the Mand’alor is a bit hesitant, “You can be there, while I start to train him. My father was the same way with my sister and I...and I wouldn’t blame you if you would feel more comfortable watching over us.” 

The tension in the Mand’alor’s body flows out of him like a river flowing through a canyon. Luke cannot believe he’s taken this long to reach out about the Force presence, it might have gotten them to this spot quicker. 

“That would be nice,” The Mand’alor says, and Luke gives him a smile, a true bright smile, and Luke wonders what this means for them, if they could become friends. 

“Let me figure out a lesson plan of sorts, maybe we could meet sometime next week? Whenever it works best for you two, I can work something out in my schedule to match yours.” Luke says, the Mand’alor nods in response, and Luke wants to pretend he’s smiling at Luke underneath his helmet. 

“Well, I’ll let you two have your alone time, it was a pleasure finally getting a chance to talk, Mand’alor.” Luke extends a hand to the man, who meets him halfway. 

His grip is strong, and his leather glove is rough on Luke’s hand, catching on the calluses he’s built up from his lightsabers. Luke tries to ignore the shivers that run down his spine, trying his hardest to not store how it feels in the back of his mind for later. 

“Please, call me Mando.” Butterflies erupt in Luke’s stomach, and Luke begs them to calm down. 

“Luke.” He gives the pair a bright smile, and he can feel in the Force the calm feeling that blossoms from Mando, Luke revels in it. 

“Have a good day, Luke,” Mando tests his name on his tongue, and Luke’s heart is pounding. 

“You too, Mando, Grogu,” Luke says, and reaches over to boop Grogu on the noise, who giggles in delight. 

He gives them a small wave, before he turns to go. He can feel Mando’s eyes staring into the back of his head as he makes his way around the corner, and Luke tries not to let his heart get too comfortable with the feeling that is making its way inside his chest, much like birds trying to build a nest, a feeling that wants to make a home there.

* * *

“Would you be able to send more books? Specifically the ones that Obi-Wan and Ahsoka used to train Leia and I?” Luke asks, and his father looks shocked, but nods slowly. 

_“Why do you need them?”_ His father questions instead of saying an easy yes, like Luke wished he would. 

Luke wonders how to explain the situation, peering over to see the guard in the corner, it’s a pity that Cara couldn’t be here today. The blue hologram makes his father look older than he already is, the lines bringing out his wrinkles more than they should, and Luke wonders when the two of them got old. 

“I want to start learning how to train other Force-Sensitives, I would have had a padawan by now if I was in the Order, so it only seems right to start learning.” The lie rolls of his tongue way too easily, and Luke wishes he could trust his father with this, but the Mand’alor, no...Mando, already seemed hesitant about him even knowing about Grogu’s powers. 

_“Hm...okay, I’ll see what I can gather, I put those away years ago. Hopefully they aren’t at the apartment on Coruscant, it will take longer to get them to you if they are,”_ Anakin explains, and Luke nods, understanding. 

“Thanks, Dad.” His father gives him a big smile, “How is everything going?” 

_“Most of the usual, your mother running back and forth, your sister causing mayhem in the Senate, just like we raised her too...Obi-Wan wishes you’d call him, he would love to talk about Mandalore.”_ Luke tries not to feel guilty about calling his uncle, but Luke can’t help but feel...bad about talking to him about this. 

“I’m pretty busy over the next couple of weeks with the Senator Elections coming up, but tell him I’ll call him soon,” Luke replies softly, and his father’s head tilts, looking at him too closely. 

_“Luke...is everything alright there?”_ His father attempts to coax the answer out of him. 

“Yeah...there’s a lot going on, but I miss you guys, maybe after the elections, I’ll be able to request some time off, maybe in time to come home for Leia and I’s birthday,” Luke murmurs, and his father sighs, and Luke kicks himself for not telling his father how lonely he is, but he doesn’t want to worry them. 

_“Alright, Luke, you know we’re always here for you? No matter how far away we are from each other, we love you. I love you, Luke,”_ His father affirms, and Luke knows in his heart that it’s true, and maybe that’s the reason he misses home so much. 

“I love you guys too, and I know, I don’t think you’ll ever let me forget it.” His father lets out a chuckle, one of his ‘Dad’ laughs, as Ashoka calls them. 

They say their goodbyes, and Luke gets up, giving a nod to the guard that sits in the corner, making his way back into his bedroom, while the guard gets up and leaves. He opens the balcony, and sinks onto the floor, and starts meditating, trying to understand if he’s missing something here.

* * *

_It’s not him._

_It can’t...it can’t be his Uncle Obi. But it is, a younger version of the man that was the closest thing Luke’s father had to an actual father._

_They’re in the throne room, and he’s standing watching, Obi-Wan in red Mandalorian armor, much like the kind that he sees around the palace. He’s standing in front of Maul, the former Sith, with more Mandalorians surrounding them, and another Sith that looks like Maul there too. There is a blonde woman kneeling at the foot of the throne, and a part of Luke recognizes her...there’s something there but he doesn’t know. Is that the Darksaber in Maul’s hand?_

_What is the Force trying to tell him?_

_Obi-Wan is angry. Angry in a way that Luke has never felt from him, a deep seated anger that almost has Luke falling to his knees once he feels it, and that’s when Luke realizes that Uncle Obi loves this woman, deeply, powerfully, and perhaps forever._

_Luke can’t hear anything. Everyone is saying words but Luke can’t hear them, but Luke’s heart is breaking for his uncle, one of the many who raised him, turned him into the man he is today. Luke reaches out when Maul lifts the woman up, clenching his fist, choking her slowly as he makes his way closer to Obi, taunting him, teasing him while Maul tortures the woman, and in turn, Uncle Obi._

_Luke tries to step forward, to stop them, but he’s only a witness, a reader consuming the story between the lines, and he wants to beg the Force to finally tell him why he is cursed with this knowledge, with memories of a past already long gone, and a reality that is broken and ruined._

_The conversation goes back and forth between Obi and Maul, escalating the argument when the Mandalorian’s knock Obi-Wan down, and Maul ignites the Darksaber, bringing the woman closer, and turning, burying the black blade in her stomach. Glancing back at Obi, he has never seen his beloved Uncle in such a state, face contorted into something heart wrenching and awful._

_Luke wants to scream, looking back and forth between Obi and the woman, the Force crying out in a pain that Luke never wants to experience himself, the feedback loop already too much for him to bear on his own. He wants to run out, comfort Obi, but the force keeps him where he’s at._

_“Satine,” Uncle Obi chokes out, a pain sort of whisper that Luke cannot blame him for._

_Maul releases Satine, letting her drop to the ground, going back to the same throne that Mando sits on now, and Obi is there, pulling her into his arms. She reaches up, caressing his face, life slowly fading from her Force signature._

_“Remember, my dear Obi-Wan... I loved you always... I always will.”_

Luke wakes up screaming. Just like he always does. 

He blinks up at the ceiling, trying to control his breathing. His birthmarks burn, and he’s sweating, just like always. Nothing changes, he’s always stuck here. Chest heavy, Luke looks around the dark bedroom, moonlight streaming in through the windows, flickering out as clouds pass overhead. Luke takes a deep breath, resting his head against the headboard. The birthmark on his right wrist aches, and he reaches up to rub it. 

“Are you alright?” Luke jumps, and looks up to see the Mand’alor in the doorway. 

Luke takes a deep breath, too far in his own thoughts to feel the Force presence of the Mand’alor. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, I heard you screaming and wanted to make sure you were alright,” Mando says, his stance awkward standing so far away. 

“No, it’s alright. I didn’t mean to worry you,” Luke responds, running a hand down his face. 

The Mand’alor, no Mando, hums, crossing his arms over his chest. Luke doesn’t like the way Mando keeps looking at him, a feeling not unlike pity radiates off of him, and Luke hates this, wishing he could vanish into thin air. His red cloak brushes the door frame as he leans into it, and the Darksaber on his hip. Luke can feel the awkward energy between the two of them, from Mando experiencing something personal for Luke, and Luke having someone witness the one thing he didn’t talk about with anyone other than family. 

“Was it a nightmare?”

Luke looks away, suddenly very interested in the rug, trying to hide his embarrassment, “Uh...yeah, I’ve gotten them since I was a little kid.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Mando asks, and Luke looks up at him in surprise. 

“It’s fine, I’m used to them, it’s late anyways, you’re probably tired,” Luke tries to wave him off, but Mando continues to step further into his space. 

It’s only been a few days since their first conversation in the garden. Luke is surprised that Mando would want to listen to Luke ramble about the nightmares, Leia doesn’t even want to do that all the time. Mando looks around the room, eyes catching on something on the side table, and makes his way over. 

“How about some hot chocolate then? It helps Grogu when he wakes up from a bad dream,” Mando offers, picking up the tin of Naboo hot chocolate, turning back to face Luke. 

The butterflies that have made a nest in Luke’s chest erupt, and he softens. Luke gives him a smile, standing up to meet the man halfway. 

“I’d like that...but let me prepare it, I don’t trust many people with my hot chocolate.” 

The chuckle Luke gets in return isn’t something that he expected, but it is something that Luke will keep in his heart forever. Mando hands the tin over, fingertips accidentally brushing, and Luke tries not to blush furiously. Luke can feel his eyes on him, while Mando watches as Luke makes his cup. A warm glow pushes into the Force, and Luke likes the calm energy that Mando brings. 

“I would offer you a mug, but something tells me that you wouldn’t drink it in front of me,” Luke jokes, and Mando shrugs.

“Thank you for the offer though,” Mando’s voice is soft. 

“Join me on the balcony?” Luke asks, and Mando gives him a simple nod. 

He follows Luke onto the balcony, the soft breeze feels nice. Luke sinks into the plush chair, appreciating the softness, still very in shock that The Mand’alor was sitting on his balcony, trying to calm him down from the nightmare he woke up screaming from. Luke doesn’t think too much into it, just feelings how the Force moves around Mando, knowing that he was here for a reason. 

They don’t say anything, just sitting there admiring the night sky before him, the moonlight bouncing off the silvery beskar that the Mand’alor wears. The two of them stay up, neither of them needing to make conversation. Luke doesn’t fall asleep, but for this distraction, Luke is grateful. 

  
  
  



	3. untouchable, burning brighter than the sun, now that you're close i feel like coming undone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry this took longer than the last chapter...but as you can see this chapter is longer than the entire length of the last two chapters combined. Lots of ground to cover, lots to see. Thank you guys for the comments on the last chapter, replying to them are just not in my mental capacity right now, but I read every single one, and see all your compliments on other platforms, I really appreciate every single person who reads this story! So much love :D Also like worm that I no longer have to think about someone else playing Cara Dune, and my personal fancast of Lucy Lawless can stand without any yelling.  
> Anyways, this chapter was a bitch when working with pacing, but I really like how it turned out, thank you guys for reading!

If the thoughts of Mando could wait until after he is done meditating, Luke would thank the Force. 

His head falls into his hands. Mando left an hour ago, and Luke can’t stop focusing on how kind the man is. They barely knew each other, and only his immediate family had comforted him like that, sitting with him until he was finally tired enough to pass out, but by then, Mando was all that was running through Luke’s mind. 

He sits on the floor of his bedroom, the morning sun reaching out on the floor, stretching with the prospect of a new day. Luke thinks back to Sandy, the akk dog Leia and Luke convinced his father to get them when they were children, basking in the morning sun as Luke did his morning meditations on their favorite balcony, the one that overlooked the lake on Naboo, the very same his parents got married on all those years go, and Luke wonders if life could be that simple again. 

He wishes he could call Leia and tell her all about the feelings inside his chest. But he can’t, he can’t admit to maybe a small crush on the King of Mandalore. If something, anything, he said about Mando got out, no matter how kind it would most likely be, it would be a political scandal. Luke’s here as an advisor to the Mand’alor, there are so many things that could go wrong. The people in the senate who don’t want Mandalore back, the people always taking shots at his family, and especially the media, would have a field day at the apparent special treatment Mandalore was getting.

And, well, most of all, he didn’t need to admit in front of Cara that he thought one of her oldest friends was attractive, since she would probably give him the most grief out of anyone. 

He glances over at his mediation journal that sits on the desk, a perfect view from this angle. Luke knows he should put these thoughts somewhere, knowing his mother, his father and Master Windu would tell him to get them out, so he gets up, stretching out his arms. He grabs the robe that lays on the end of his bed, slipping his arms into it, relishing in the softness of the silk. 

Running his hands through his hair to push it back out of his face, he drops himself into his desk chair with a huff. Picking up the pen, he spins it as he slowly opens the journal, the paper rustic and homemade, dragging his fingers along the rough edge. Pressing the pen to paper, he writes. 

He tells the paper everything he cannot say aloud, pondering the times he’s thought he was in love, thinking about the first people he ever noticed in that way, and back to Mando, who is still so far away from his reach. While Luke noticed Mando on that very first day, now seven months ago, he’s been out of touch, close enough to swoon over but not close enough to fall into whole heartedly. And now, he’s offered to train Mando’s force-sensitive son, and The Mand’alor just spent his evening calming Luke down from a nightmare, one that wasn’t even one of his worst ones. It almost feels like the starting point, the first step before jumping off the cliff and into the ocean. 

Luke knew that Mando was a kind man, from the first time he laid eyes on him. It was the way the Force moved around him, no matter how intimidating the man tried to be, Luke saw right through it. Still, Mando was a force to be reckoned with, and Luke couldn’t help but be entranced. It’s not that Luke is scared of having feelings for the man, it’s just...

Sitting back, he wonders why the Force still moves so weirdly around his suite. He’s meditated on it for so long, yet, there are still no answers for him. Last night’s dream of Uncle Obi showed him something that no one in his family had ever explained. He knew his Uncle had spent time on Mandalore during his time as a Padawan, but the fact that he had been in love with a former Mand’alor, at least Luke was assuming she was Mandalorian at the very least, was something that had not been a story his family had ever told him, not even mentioned or brushed over. He knows he’s missing something, but at this point, he doesn’t have enough information to actually help him out. 

Instead of worrying about the things he can’t control, Luke pulls out the halopads with the treaty drafts on them, and promises himself that he’ll get answers from someone soon.

* * *

His thoughts are buried deep in the halopads, thinking over this one part in the treaty that he can’t seem to get the Senate committee to agree to taking it out. It’s a bullshit part, something that wouldn’t really matter unless something truly awful happens, but Luke doesn’t want to risk it.

Worrying his lip in between his teeth, he’s distracted as he makes his way back to his suites for the day, hopefully to call his parents if he can get Cara to sit in. He’s been planning on asking his father some questions about what he knows about Uncle Obi and Mandalore, just to test the waters before actually confronting him about the things Luke thinks he knows. It may be a good night to start the plans for Grogu’s first lesson, a message from his father said that the books would be arriving over the next couple of weeks. 

He switches to the next page of the document, moving his pen to write something when he crashes into something with enough force to almost knock him on his ass. 

A hand reaches out and grabs his shoulder, steadying him. Luke takes a deep breath, finding his balance, before finding the gold and silver plated helmet of the Mand’alor. A blush rose with a revengeance on Luke’s cheeks, and Luke was at a loss for words. Glancing over, Luke spots Cara trying not to laugh at him, and shoots her a glare. 

“Ambassador,” Mando says, and Luke can hear the smirk in his voice, making him even more embarrassed. 

“Mand’alor, it’s nice running into you,” Luke jokes, and Mando lets out a small hum in response. 

“Where are you heading?” He asks, and a small part of Luke is surprised that Mando would want to know, but maybe with the recent development in their acquaintance ship, things have changed on that front as well. 

Gesturing to his halopad, “Back to my suite, hoping to work through a part of the treaty with my parents, and plan for the elections next month, if I can get Cara to join me.” 

He looks back over to Cara, who gives him a confused look, glancing in-between the two of them, trying to figure out when the two got on speaking terms. Luke tries to hide the smirk that wants to make its way on his face. 

“I’m sure Dune wouldn’t mind monitoring the call, right?” If Mando didn’t have a helmet on, Luke would expect him to lift an eyebrow as he turns to look at Cara. 

Briefly, Luke wonders how expressive he is under the helmet, does he smirk when he finds something funny? Does he roll his eyes when someone says something ignorant? Does he blush when someone flirts with him, even if he doesn’t like them? But, that isn’t something for Luke to know, there’s a reason Mando wears the helmet, and Luke shouldn’t overstep that boundary, even in daydreams.

“I’d be honored,” Cara chuckles, eyebrows raised in delight. 

“Glad to hear it, shall we?” 

Cara nods, stepping aside to let Luke pass the Mand’alor. Luke looks up and gives Mando a final nod, which he reciprocates. He steps passed Mando, and their fingertips brush. Luke glances back, as he starts to walk down the hallway with Cara. Mando’s helmet is angled in his direction, and Luke smiles. The helmet moves up and down one last time, before Mando walks away, shoulders broad, and red cloak flowing behind him. He turns back to face the direction Cara and him are moving in. 

“So, how’s the hotter twin doing?” Cara asks, and Luke jokingly rolls his eyes. 

“Cara, for the last time, my sister has a partner.” Cara laughs, “He might be a dumbass, but she’s all in.” 

“That’s a damn shame.”

* * *

Grogu is a menace. It’s no wonder Mando has kept him away from the rest of the galaxy. 

Yes, Luke understands that the real reason that Mando kept him away is to protect him, but Luke choses to believe that it’s because the man knows he’s been raising a fifty-year old horror child who likes to throw stones at his teacher when said teacher is trying not to look like a fool in front of the said horror child’s attractive father. 

Grogu giggles, and Luke shoots him a half joke and half real glare, just after dodging another three rocks, like he could hear Luke’s thoughts perfectly, and was getting revenge for Luke having a small crush on his father. 

Luke pushes those thoughts about his feelings out of his head. 

“I thought you said you could train my _ad’ika_ ,” Mando says, sitting on the bench behind the two of them. 

Luke can hear the smirk in his voice, and there are those damn butterflies again. 

“I said I would try, I’ve never trained someone before, this is new for me too,” Luke responds, pushing back a rock to Grogu. 

Thankfully, Grogu catches it this time and doesn’t immediately rocket it back towards Luke. Instead, he tosses it back and forth between his hands for a moment. Mando gets up from his spot on the sparring grounds, and walks over to stand next to Luke. He tries not to let his breath get caught in his throat by the proximity of the man. They watch Grogu turn the stone in his hands, feeling the water weathered texture. They stare in amazement as Grogu moves the rock smoothly around himself before pushing it back to Luke, placing it gently in his outstretched hand. 

“Good job!” Mando gushes, already rushing over to pick up his son. 

Grogu babbles, reaching his hands out for his father. The pair are a sight to see, Grogu reaching up to place his hands on either side of Mando’s helmet, and Mando leaning his head down to place on Grogu’s forehead. Luke can feel the joy that radiates off the two of them, the unbridled pride that seeps through the beskar armor. Luke’s heart clenches a bit, missing the days when his mother would cheer him on from the sidelines of the training grounds, and his father picking him up and spinning him around when he finally nailed the move he had been practicing for months. 

“Good job, Grogu, we might make a Jedi out of you yet,” Luke jokes, walking up to join them, hands clasped behind his back. 

“Ba!” Grogu spats, and Luke smiles. Mando’s eyes are on him, and Luke tries not to blush. 

“No, you don’t have to be a Jedi, I am not a Jedi,” Luke reminds Grogu, and Mando looks between them, “Yes, I am sure we can figure out a way to get a beskar lightsaber for you.” 

“Can he talk to you?” Mando asks, tilting his head to the side, and Luke nods. 

“It’s more of images and feelings, but yes, he can communicate with me,” Luke explains.

A different feeling flickers into the Force, a bit of sadness, maybe jealousy? Luke can’t make it out, but he knows it’s coming from Mando. Luke feels for him. There were times that his mother would get frustrated because their father would understand what Leia and him needed without a word spoken aloud, but eventually his father taught her enough to tune her in. A beat passes, and Grogu shows Luke a moment...it’s from the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Is that...Uncle Obi?

“You’ve seen the Jedi Temple?” Grogu nods, “You’ve lived there?” 

“What’s going on?” Mando asks, voice soft and a bit worried. 

Luke turns his head to look up at him, “I think...I think Grogu was stolen from the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, I don’t know...it’s a bit confusing, Grogu doesn’t fully understand or he can’t quite remember.” 

Grogu gurgles, snuggling in closer to his father’s chestplate, and Luke doesn’t know what to say. He’s at a stand still. 

“Grogu was supposed to be trained as a Jedi?” 

Luke opens his mouth, making eye contact with the visor again. The words aren’t quite forming, he doesn’t know how to answer the question, even Grogu doesn’t know. He briefly wonders what color Mando’s eyes are, but shakes the thought out of his head. Taking a big breath, Luke gives him a smaller, sadder smile. 

“I think he was.” 

“Oh.” 

It’s an awkward energy shift from the joy that came just after Grogu finally accomplished the task for their third lesson, with starting their training about two weeks ago, a bit delayed since Mando and Luke’s schedules were still so busy. He hadn’t expected Grogu to be proficient enough in the Force to tell him something like this, but if he had been briefly trained at the temple, that might explain a few things. Mando holds his son closer to him, the protective nature that Luke felt in their first conversation comes back.

“... _would_ they try to take him back if they realize he’s here with me?” Mando questions, and that Luke can attempt to answer. 

“I’m not sure, but if they haven’t tried to come after him since he’s been under your care, I don’t know if they're looking for him anymore, but if they do...I won’t let them. Grogu is already too attached to you and his life here, it would be wrong for them to do so, and according to the Jedi Code, he wouldn’t be a good candidate for the Order anymore. Maybe when he was still younger, but...now you’re his... _buir_?” Luke tries the Mando’a in his mouth, and the chuckle that comes out of Mando is surprising. 

“ _Buir,”_ He corrects, and there’s the contentment again, “It means parent, in this case father, and thank you, for being willing to stick up for him...for us.” 

Luke’s heart soars, “Of course, I can understand how painful it would be to be torn away from your family.” 

Flashes of a childhood spent chasing around friends in the desert heat, daydreaming about adventure, actually doing something with his life and a childhood spent staring at stars, hoping that someone would give him answers, they all run across his mind. Luke pushes them away, reminding himself that that timeline never happened, and he can call his parents anytime, and they would always answer. No matter what had happened to Grogu, Luke is happy that he found a place with Mando, somewhere where he feels safe and loved. 

Grogu wiggles in Mando’s arms, signalling he wants to be put down. Mando obliges, and the little womp-rat runs off to chase the lone butterfly that has flown into the courtyard. It’s a nice day, the sun is shining, but Luke has realized how much he misses the rainy days on Naboo, curled up with his mother in the greenhouse, watching as the rain hits the glass, sipping their hot chocolate and exchanging thoughts. Unlike the version of him in the dreams, Luke doesn’t think he would ever be cut out for a blazing hot climate, but Mandalore is nice...Luke wouldn’t mind sticking around. 

“If you feel comfortable enough, I could reach out to Obi-Wan, he’s on the Jedi Council, and he’s family. I could ask him about Grogu, he would keep it quiet until we can figure something out,” Luke offers, and Mando shifts uncomfortably, “I trust him with my life, but I would understand if you would rather keep this between us.” 

Mando crosses his arms, “Is he the same Obi-Wan Kenobi who was here when the Duchess was killed?” 

The images of Uncle Obi holding Satine as she died in his arms cross his mind. 

“Yes.” 

Mando hums, turning his head to watch as Grogu waddles around after the butterfly, with its vibrant purple wings shimmering in the sunlight. 

“I’ll think about it. Really, they can’t take him anyways. I’ve said the adoption rite, so legally, he’s recognized as my son under Mandalorian creed. To take him would be an act of war.” 

With those words, Luke is immediately anxious of what would happen if the Jedi Order came back for Grogu, and what position that would put his family in, with Luke being the Ambassador, but also their connections with the Jedi...but then the Force surrounds him in a feeling of amusement. Luke smiles, rolling his eyes, and shakes his head at him. 

“Who knew the Mand’alor had a sense of humor,” Luke banters, a laugh escapes from his lips.

“Well, it would actually be an act of war, but I think I have someone would be able to negotiate with the other side for me,” Mando says, helmet moving to look Luke over. Luke doesn’t let the action go to his head, even if a small blush rises to his face. 

“I’m sorry but Ambassador Skywalker-Naberrie is very busy working on the treaty for Mandalore, organizing Senator elections, and teaching the Mand’alor’s only beloved son about the Force. You’ll have to check with his secretary if you want to include him in any plans to enact a war on the rest of the Republic.” 

If Luke’s heart flutters at the sound of Mando’s laugh, a laugh that Luke can only hope is real, true, purely Mando, then that’s his business. And if someone would ask if Luke replays the sound in his head, when he’s trying to sleep without nightmares for one night, Luke would ask them what they were talking about.

* * *

Another nightmare sneaks up on Luke, about four weeks after the first time, and two weeks after he’s started training Grogu, and Mando finds him just the same. Neither of them say a word, already an unspoken agreement has been formed between the men. Mando had watched as he made his hot chocolate, then following him to the balcony. 

They sit down, the chairs haven’t moved since the first night the pair found themselves out on the balcony. 

“What was the nightmare about tonight?” Mando asks, and Luke’s mind flashes back to what he had seen. 

_“I’m gonna grow up to be just like you one day, big brother.”_

_Luke turns, finding a younger version of Leia standing far away from him. Her hair is down, long. He remembers how he used to braid it for hours. He’s confused, yes, he is technically older than Leia, but they had stopped holding it over each other so long ago. Luke still managed to be taller anyways._

_“Leia?” He whispers, and she smiles._

_“Just like you,” The ghost of the girl his sister used to be starts walking towards him._

_It’s then he notices the glow of the yellow-red eyes, the ghostly color of her skin, the dark circles around her face, and Luke instinctively steps back. He wants to say more, but she sprints towards him, and he reacts by reaching for his sabers, his limbs moving before he can tell them this is not a threat._

_The sabers slash through her, the hissing of the plasma against flesh, and Luke hates every inch of himself in that moment. He can hear her body thud when it hits the floor, and he wants to scream. Palpatine’s laughter cackles from somewhere distant._

_He looks down, forcing himself to face what he had done. Instead, however, he sees the reflection of himself, his own blood pooling around him, and the sabers burning red in his hands._

Luke shakes his head in response to the question, and Mando knows not to pry. However, Luke’s mind replays the nightmare over and over again, something about holding the red sabers made his skin crawl, and he knew that his fears of what he could have become ran deeper than he was letting on. But, he’d worry about that another time. 

Mando and Luke had been sitting like this for a while, just the two of them breathing, staring at the stars. Looking over towards the other man, Luke watches the silver moonlight bounce off the beskar armor. If Luke was an artist, like his father, he would have captured the way light moves around Mando a thousand times over, he would make it his life’s work to show the galaxy how beautiful armor could be. 

Luke decides to break the silence, “I’ve always loved the stars.” 

Mando turns his head, meeting his eyes. A small smile tugs at Luke’s lips, slowly learning to love the way he felt when Mando even so much as angled his head in Luke’s direction. 

“Yeah?”

“The constellations are different here than they are back home, I’ve had those memorized for decades at this point. It was a little unnerving at first, but...it’s kind of nice, you know? Learning something new.” 

“I guess I’ve never really looked too hard at the stars, but yeah, it is. I was never in the same place for long enough to learn constellations, I spent a lot of my life before becoming Mand’alor traveling, working.” 

“So, you got to see a lot of the galaxy?” Luke asks, and Mando nods. 

“A lot of it was the Outer Rim, but yeah, I did.” 

“My father used to live on Tatooine, have you ever been?” 

Mando chuckles, “Many times, I have some good friends who live there, I take Grogu and we visit from time to time. It’s nice, kind of quiet.” 

“I remember the stories my father used to tell me about his time traveling the galaxy, with my Uncle Obi and my Aunt Ahsoka, and all the things they’d seen. My father taught me to fly, and I used to swear I’d travel to every planet, see the entire galaxy, map out every constellation on each one of them to pass on...but that was a long time ago.” Luke feels the piece of himself that was always longing to go ache in response to this thought. 

“What made you change your mind?” Mando asks, and Luke shrugs. 

“The nightmares are mostly about my family, an alternate timeline, I guess. I’ve had them so long, that they have always made me anxious. They made it difficult to feel like my family was safe when I wasn’t around them,” Luke explains, “When we were twelve, Uncle Bail offered to let Leia study under him, before he was elected Chancellor, it was just going to be a month. I had the same nightmare about her in Jabba the Hutt's palace as a slave, and her being tortured by the alternate version of our father, every night she was away on Alderaan. They were horrible, I woke up screaming so often that I eventually lost my voice.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Luke sighs, “I had to call her every morning just to make sure, just to know that I hadn’t fallen into this...averted timeline. I felt so bad, but my sister is kind, she never blamed me, if anything, she blamed the Force. Since then, I’ve always pushed her to do whatever she wanted, but...it was easier for me to stay on Naboo, so I went to university, continued my training. It’s the place I’ve always felt safest. It’s easier for them all to leave, but even me being the one leaving hurts sometimes,” 

“I hope you get to travel the galaxy one day, Luke, and not feel anxious about it,” Mando sympathizes, the modulator making his voice sound lower than usual. 

“I hope so too.” 

Mando nods, doesn’t say anything else, and Luke lets the two of them lull into a pleasant silence, the hot chocolate mug empty on the table that sits between them.

* * *

 _“Gods, I miss you,”_ Leia whines, as Luke chuckles.

It was already late in the evening when Leia had sent out a plea through their force connection to have a comms call, with Luke falling asleep at his desk, and he had to bribe Cara with a whole bottle of Naboo’s best liquor to come in and sit with him even though Luke knew she would be fast asleep. 

Despite wanting to sleep, Luke would take calling his sister over the potential for nightmares any day.

“I miss you too, it’s different being the one who’s off somewhere creating chaos,” Luke admits, a smile growing on his face. 

_“Dad has been insufferable since you left, claims you don’t call enough, and then when Mother and I remind him about the conditions of your Ambassadorship, he just sulks for the rest of the day,”_ Leia effuses, a glow about her that Luke hadn’t seen in a while, and Luke wonders briefly where it came from.

“Sounds about right,” Luke lets out a small yawn, and Leia grows concerned instead. 

_“Have you been having nightmares?”_

Luke rolls his eyes, “I always have nightmares, I’m tired because my little sister decided she needed to talk my ear off in the middle of the night.” 

Leia lets out a larger than life laugh, a characteristic for her at this point, and it’s almost like she’s sitting in front of him again. While almost the splitting image of their mother with her dark features, her spirit was so much of their father’s, bright, boisterous, and larger than anyone could handle. 

_“Little sister, that’s a funny one, Wormie.”_ She smirks, and Luke groans. 

“Oh come on,” Luke says, “No one has called me that since I was eleven.” 

_“I’ve decided to bring it back.”_

The pair roll into a comfortable silence for a moment, and he watches Cara start to drift off to sleep in her preferred corner. Leia picks up a brush and starts running it through her hair, humming softly to herself as she gets ready to go to bed. As she moves her hair to one side, Luke catches a glimpse of a bruise developing on her collarbone. He smirks. 

“How’s Han, you still seeing him?” Luke asks, raising one eyebrow, and it’s her turn to roll her eyes. 

Out of the corner of his sight, he sees Cara open one eye, to see where this part of the conversation leads too. He sniffles a laugh. 

_“Yes, but Dad doesn't like him one bit, let’s hope whoever you bring home makes a better impression on the man,”_ Leia jokes, and Luke’s heart aches. 

Luke’s mind blinks over to bringing Mando home to Naboo, the golden hour sunlight bouncing off the beskar, their hands intertwined, walking by the lake while Grogu chases after the poor wildlife. He thinks back to telling Mando about how much he wanted to travel just three weeks back, and all Luke wants to travel the galaxy with him and Grogu by his side. A life that Luke will never get to see. 

“That might be impossible, but yeah, let’s hope.”

* * *

Conversation mingles and lingers throughout the throne room, various party attendees laugh and wander, the energy in the room slowly tipping into the fuzzy feeling Luke has always felt at parties like this, the political ones that were just boring enough to want to chug a glass of something and cause a bit of chaos. 

Luke watches Mando from across the room, the glass of champagne cold in his hand. Mando is having a conversation with a man Luke recognizes from his first month on Mandalore, but hasn’t seen since and most definitely hasn’t been introduced too. Everything about the man seemingly contrasts Mando, the blue of his armor, and the bulkiness of it too. He’s a good couple inches taller than Mando, but despite all this, Luke’s eyes still float back to Mando. 

He tries his hardest not to stare, but with all the interactions that they’ve had recently, Luke can’t help but notice the man. Mando is magnetic, bright, and The Force moves around him a way that Luke hasn’t really experienced before. Almost like a blinding light that hasn’t been illuminated quite yet, a bonfire waiting to be set on fire, and Luke is drawn to him. 

“Congratulations Ambassador, it appears the first steps of your plan have worked. Hope you are enjoying the party for the senators, but I’m sure you’re used to events like this,” 

Luke turns to see Boba Fett appearing next to him, helmet sitting in the croak of his arm, glass of champagne in the other. 

“Thank you, I’m glad the election was a success, and the plan worked out so well. The Senator-Elects seem to be a good fit for the job, and that they’ll work well together, and with The Mand’alor,” Luke responds, clicking their classes together when Fett reaches his own out. 

“Yes, I agree,” Boba says, before taking a long sip. 

“I am especially glad we were able to move forward with any other major issues in the council,” Luke remarks, eyes looking out amongst the party goers. 

Boba shrugs, then explains, “Kryze thought she would be the Mand’alor after that Jedi Tano got Maul off the throne, but during all the commotion, the Darksaber was lost. When Mando showed back up with it hanging off his belt, she was pissed. 

Luke is confused, and looks over to the man standing next to him. 

“Tano, as in Ahsoka Tano,” Luke clarifies, and Boba nods. 

“Yes, she came in with some members of the 501st, and kicked Maul’s ass out of Mandalore. Kryze took control after that, but without the Darksaber, her rule wasn’t really recognized. Mando showing up might have been the best thing to happen to Mandalore since...well, a long time.” 

Luke doesn’t remember Aunt Ahsoka telling him this, and Luke feels like it would have been one of the one’s she told over and over again, especially if she was the one to get Maul out and not Uncle Obi. However, during his time on Mandalore, he’s realized there are a lot of things that his family hasn’t told him. Briefly, Luke thinks back to Uncle Obi holding Satine while she died in his arms, and the pain that radiated from that wound in the Force. 

“How did The Mand’alor get the Darksaber? I’ve never gotten the chance to ask,” Luke ponders out loud, hoping Boba will take the bait. 

Boba downs his glass of champagne, letting out a satisfied sigh, before handing the empty glass to Luke. He takes the dark green helmet in his arms, and places it on his head. 

“You should ask Mando, since the two of you are buddies now.” 

Luke can hear the smirk in his modulated voice, and Luke opens his mouth to protest, but Mando is already off before he gets a chance to respond. He follows Boba as he pretty much floats over to the entrance of the throne room, meeting a woman who stands by the door, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, before leaving the party all together. 

Luke sighs, looking at the empty glass in his hand. A waiter passes by, and Luke deposits Boba’s glass off. 

He’s been to many parties like this before, so he is used to the lack of interesting conversation, and not uncomfortable with standing in a room while the rest of the world seems to be making small talk just fine. Luke, however, does miss hiding in the corner with Leia, making fun of the hooty-tooty senators who thought it would be a good idea spending the evening kissing their father’s ass, who hated those types of events more than he apparently loathed sand. 

He takes another sip of his champagne, watching as everyone mingles. The Senator-Elects seem enthusiastic about their new positions that they’re starting shortly. Bo-Katan and Koska stand in the corner, and give him a once over when his eyes meet theirs. Luke wonders if he’ll ever make nice with them. 

Luke’s eyes find Mando again, not being very good at convincing himself that maybe the crush isn’t very small anymore. He’s still having a conversation with the same man, obviously catching up with him. Luke briefly wonders what Grogu does during events like this, while Mando has to make polite conversation. He would have loved to hang out with his new friend. 

Across the room, Luke can see Mando’s helmet tilt in his direction, and when he focuses on the man, Mando’s visor is seemingly looking directly into his eyes. Luke gives a small smile, bringing his free hand up to wave, before taking another sip. Mando nods in his direction, and for a moment, Luke thinks that that will be the only interaction that the pair have for the night, and Luke instantly tries to tell himself that he’s okay with that. 

Then, the pair start making their way over to him, and Luke wishes he had more time to make sure he looks presentable. 

“Ambassador, it’s good to see you,” Mando greets him, and an easy smile grows on Luke’s face. 

“Mand’alor, congratulations on officially having a place in the Senate for Mandalore, just another step closer to making Mandalore an official part of the Republic,” Luke responds, raising his glass in a bit of a cheers. 

Mando nods, and gestures to the man beside him, “This is Paz Vizsla, he’s the Head of The Fighting Corps, he’s in charge of training the foundlings. He’s been off world, since some of our citizens have come across foundlings, and Vizla has been bringing them back to Mandalore.” 

Luke nods, stretching out a hand for the man to shake, and Paz repricoates. His grip is strong, different than Luke remembers Mando’s being...he shouldn’t let himself compare anyone to Mando, cause Luke can tell he will be sorely letdown. Paz’s hand lingers a little too long. 

“It’s nice to meet you, that must be a lot of work, what you’ve been doing.” 

“It’s worth it, to give the foundlings a place to call home. I was here briefly when you first arrived, but never got a chance to introduce myself, Ambassador. However, I have heard many stories from Dune about the sparring sessions between the two of you. She has many compliments about your fighting skills,” Paz remarks, and Luke takes note of the slightly flirty tone in his voice. 

“Oh, yes, well, Cara is an excellent sparring partner.” Luke smiles, trying to deflect some of the direct attention he’s getting from the man. 

“Maybe, I’ll have to experience your skills for myself, if they are so highly spoken of,” Paz says, voice deep even through the modulator. 

Taking a deep breath, to calm the bit of anxiety that sits in his chest, tasting jealousy in the Force ever so slightly, but Luke can’t detect who it’s coming from. Glancing over at Mando, everything about his stance looks tense, and Luke wonders if he’s alright. He thinks about asking, but stops himself, remembering his place, even if Luke feels like the two of them are becoming friends. 

Even through the helmet, Luke knows Paz’s eyes are on him. Luke straightens, reaching up to brush the loose strands of hair out of his face, attempting to hide the blush that he could feel rising to his cheeks. The flirting is now obvious in his voice, an amorous feeling seeping from behind his armor showing that he’s attracted to Luke. If his family was here, his father and sister would be snickering at Luke right now. While Luke knows he’s not unattractive, most of the time people flirt with him purely for political reasons, trying to worm their way into one of the most well-known and connected families in the galaxy, so he’s not really used to this kind of attention.

Luke attempts to tell him he’s not interested the best he can without embarrassing either of them,“Thank you, but I am not sure I’d actually be that good of a fight, my skills are a little rusty since coming to Mandalore, but I am sure we could set something up if you really want to.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Princess. You’re one of the best fighters I’ve seen since I fought Mando for the first time,” Cara announces, clapping him on the back, startling Luke a bit, seemingly sensing the chance to embarrass Luke, and appeared just for that. 

“That’s very kind of you, Cara.” Luke gives her a strained smile, and in order to get some of the attention off himself, Luke turns to Mando, “Do you spar, Mand’alor?” 

There’s something about Mando’s stance that softens when Luke addresses him, the warm glow that Luke has come to associate with the man pushing out into the Force. They had been spending more and more time together, with many accidental late-night meetings, of which Luke didn’t know how accidental it was for them anymore, and with Luke training Grogu, which had been a bright spot on this whole situation, he was going to miss him when he left to return to Naboo. 

“Not if I can help it.” Mando’s voice is soft, and Luke’s lips tug upward. 

He’s intrigued, “Oh? Why is that?” 

A beat of silence passes, and Luke worries he’s offended Mando by asking. Mando clears his throat, shifting on his feet, angling his body directly towards Luke, almost making sure Luke knows he's talking to him. 

“Haven’t found the right partner,” Mando responds. 

Luke's breath gets caught in his throat, his heart picking up with the hope of something more there. Mando is directly looking at him, there is no doubt about it. The sweat from the glass drips onto Luke’s hand. 

Mando nods, “If you’ll excuse us.” 

Luke returns the nod, watching as the pair walk off to make their way over to the senator-elects, and Luke can’t pull his eyes away from Mando’s retreating figure, noticing the broadness of his shoulders, the way the red cape fell from those same shoulders, and the way the light streaming in from the windows reflect off the gold plating beskar, almost creating a halo around him. 

“I think Vizsla likes you, Princess.” Cara knocks into Luke’s shoulder again, bringing him back to reality. 

“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed,” Luke responds, a slight lie, and Cara gives him a smirk, almost like she knows. Instead of looking at her, he downs the rest of his champagne. 

“Well, I think we should have another drink,” She says, instead of accusing him of any feelings Luke may or may not have. 

“Sounds like a good plan to me,” Luke agrees. 

Cara throws an arm around his shoulders, and for now, Luke is happy.

* * *

Luke cannot believe he agreed to this. He shouldn’t have agreed to this. Luke is only going to look like a fool. Gods, if only he had deflected better at the party three weeks ago, this would have never been set up and Luke could continue his time here in peace. 

Paz stands in front of him, both of them getting ready for their sparring match. Luke definitely blames Cara for this, who stands off to the side, next to Mando, smirking like she knows what she’s doing. Though, his kyber crystals still hum with the idea of a good fight, especially with someone he hasn’t fought before, someone to learn from. 

“I won’t use my blaster cannon, just to make it a fair fight,” Paz boasts, confidence oozing from behind his armor, leaving a bad taste in the Force for Luke. 

Paz adjusts his grip on the beskad, and the dagger he had paired with it. Normally, Luke is attracted to men with confidence, always appreciating when others know their worth. Paz, however, borders on cocky, and Luke is reminded of all the boys who thought they could woo him with their attitude, always trying something to grab his attention.

Luke also knows that, in this circumstance...in most circumstances, he is underestimated, not inheriting the overwhelming presence his father always brought to each fight, and his shorter stature an ode to his mother, but Luke never let it stop him. Luke knows he came from a powerful line of fighters, with words and with weapons, he knows the power that is in his veins. The Force has blessed him, just like it did his father before. Hell, he had sparred with Jedi Masters and won, Paz Vizsla was just another man. Weapons might be a part of his religion, but the kyber crystals that hum excitedly were a part of his. 

Luke smirks, sarcasm dripping from his voice, "Thank you, I appreciate your kindness.” 

He’s not going to hold back, and he isn't going to go easy on him, might be time to show off a little bit. 

With the classic Skywalker dramatics, Luke drops his cloak, letting his sabers fly off his belt, into his hands, twisting to sit in reverse grip, and immediately igniting them. He picked a good day to wear his Jedi robes, showing off from the lineage of which he came from, even if he doesn’t consider himself a Jedi.

“Let’s go, Princess! Kick his ass!” Cara calls, from the sidelines. 

Taking a deep breath, Luke shuts his eyes. 

_I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me, I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me, I am one with Force and the Force is with me, I am-_

He feels Paz move before he hears it, sliding out of the way, Luke easily deflects his jab, moving his left saber to block the dagger that came up after it, the beskar screeching against the plasma of his saber. 

Gods, Luke loves the sound of a good fight. Paz grunted at Luke’s easy movements, his eyes still shut, letting the Force guide his movements. Despite the nightmares, listening to the Force was something that Luke was always good at, maybe that’s why the Force cursed him. 

Paz moved again, starting the easy back and forth, clashing of the weapon, and he uses his vambraces to deflect one of Luke’s sabers, while he blocks the other attack with the dagger with the other. Putting weight behind his attack, Paz almost catches Luke off balance, and Luke does a quick backflip to get away from the cuts of the beskar. 

Adjusting his grip, Luke decides to launch back towards Paz, trying to catch him off-guard with his speed. Jumping up, he bears down on Paz, who uses his vambraces, again to deflect the hits. Pushing up, he sets Luke stumbling back. 

They walk around each other, Luke twisting his sabers in his hands. He thinks for a moment. Paz is less physical than Cara is, definitely more used to using his gun than his fists or a hand-held weapon. He also wears more armor than Cara, making it a bit difficult to find a good spot to take him down. It would probably be best to use his weight against him, since he seems so comfortable using Luke’s against him. 

Paz runs forward, beskad high, and Luke brings up both sabers to deflect. Luke twists around, his shorter saber catching one edge of the beskad, while the longer one catches the other, and sends it flying. Cara lets out a whoop at the action, and Luke moves his hand out, using the Force to push Paz backwards. He grunts at the action, and Luke gives him a wink. 

He shuts off his shorter saber, sending it back to its place on his hip, and Luke rushes forward, jumping in the air, the Force giving him a boost, flipping over, free hand presses down on Paz’s helmet, and Luke lands behind him. With a mix of the Force, Luke kicks at the back of Paz’s knees, moving too fast for him to catch up with what is happening. Watching as he falls to his knees, Luke grabs the top of the helmet again, and moves his right hand to hold the saber near Paz’s neck. 

With heavy breath, Luke grunts, “Yield.” 

“I yield,” Paz heaves, and Luke lets him go, stepping back, disengaging his other saber, placing it back on his belt. 

He takes a stabling step backwards, feeling a bit drained with all the Force he used, it had been too long since he moved like that. Immediately, Cara moves towards him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, and Luke smiles at her, a laugh breaking from this throat. 

“I didn’t know you could move like that, Luke,” Cara comments. 

He shrugs, “I may not be a Jedi, but we were taught not to brag about our abilities,” 

She pulls him closer to her, ruffling his hair a bit, and Luke feels good, maybe it’s the adrenaline coursing through his veins, but he feels the best he’s felt in months, like finally something is going right for him. 

“Ni would guuror brokar hiibir gar as ner riduur, meh gar liser akaanir guuror megin. Cuyir ner life riduur,” Paz declares, slowly getting up from his knees, turning towards Luke and Cara.

“Pardon?” Luke is still very rusty with Mando’a, even though he was practicing, and most of the words that Paz has sound just sound like gibberish.

Mando walks up to stand next to Paz, “Norac off Paz, te Ambassador is not duumyc, kaysh's not olar par megin.” 

Cara smirks, and Luke looks between all of them for answers, but doesn’t receive any. 

“You’re a good fighter, Ambassador, you will make someone very happy one day, being able to protect them like that,” Paz clarifies, and Luke nods. 

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you to say,” Luke hums, a little confused at the compliment, but he’ll take it, reaching up and pushing sweaty hair backwards. 

Luke’s eyes move over to Mando, his body angled directly towards Luke. It’s that feeling again, the one that surrounds Mando, the one that Luke can’t name, but the one that Luke has come to love. Eyes meet the visor, and instinctively, Luke wets his lips. Mando turns his head away. Out of the corner of his eye, Luke watches Cara look at him, then look at Mando, and back at Luke. 

A bit of anxiety rises in Luke, thinking Cara might say something, but she doesn’t. Instead, she nods her head towards Paz, smirking. 

“Paz, I’m gonna go tell Fett how you let the Jetii beat you in a spar,” Cara teases, letting go of his shoulders, almost realizing he wanted some alone time with Mando. 

“Vaabir not kebbur bic, bastard,” Paz mumbles, already following Cara off the sparring grounds and into the Palace. 

“I’m not a Jedi!” Luke calls out after them, then waves one of his hands, dismissing that idea, since no one seemed to listen to him when he said it. 

His hands find their way to his hips, taking another deep breath, centering himself. Mando stands across from him, arms crossed in front of him. Luke gives him a bright smile, taking a couple tentative steps towards him. 

“I hope you enjoyed the show,” Luke jokes, and Mando laughs, he can’t believe how much he’s come to love that sound. 

“You’re...you’re a good fighter,” Mando flaters, and Luke is surprised, at the cautiousness that is seeping from behind his armor, mixed with the emotions that Luke can’t place. The helmet slowly moving back to look at Luke, his breath catches in his throat. It’s the way the sun shines on the armor, the way light moves around Mando that always has Luke stopping in his tracks.

Luke tries to speak, then has to clear his throat to push the words out, rolling his shoulders back, “I have had many people in my life who dedicated a lot of time to training me well,” 

Mando takes a couple of steps towards him, and the two of them are close, Luke’s heart pumping at million miles per minute, and Luke’s mouth goes dry again. This might be the closest that two have willingly been, not including the time Luke ran into him.

“They did. They, uh, did teach you well, I mean,” Mando stammers, fumbling over his words, like he’s nervous, making a show of looking Luke over, and Luke wishes that it meant more than what Luke knows it does. Luke gulp's, a hesitant smile tugging at his lips.

“I’ll make sure to tell them that the Mand’alor thinks that they raised me right,” Luke laughs, and Mando nods, a fluster chuckle coming out from behind the modulator, the mechanical tilt in the sound is apparent. 

“I’m sure they’re very proud of you, an accomplished fighter, a good politician, sounds like the perfect fit for your family.” 

Luke smiles a bit at the praise, tinglings running up his spine, face breaking out in a red flush. He rubs the back of his neck out, feeling incredibly flustered. Luke has stopped telling himself not to compare the other men who flirt with him to Mando, because it’s the only thing that Luke can do. The attention from Paz at the party was one thing, but attention like this from the Mand’alor, from _Mando,_ made Luke feel starkly different, like a schoolboy with a crush on the handsome boy who everyone wanted, which is what Luke is. 

“Yes, I guess I am. They are very proud.” 

It must just be in Luke’s thoughts, seeing the tension that rises between, and Luke wants to reach out, taking Mando in his arms, but it’s just his dumb crush talking, he’s thinking too much into it. He should take a step back, but his feet refuse to move. Gods, Mando was too attractive for his own good. 

“...If you ever want too, I could always use a couple of tips on how to wield the Darksaber better,” Din confides, taking one more tentative step towards Luke. 

“I’d be happy to,” Luke breathes. 

Silence once again fell over them, the two of them just looking at each other, breathing like it’s the only thing that their bodies were meant to do.

“I should check on Grogu,” Mando murmured, his hands at his side, and Luke wishes they were in his. 

“Of course, tell him I said hello.” 

Mando stares at him, takes a step back away from Luke, slowly turning away from him. Watching as he walks away, Luke finally gets his breath back, taking a step back. Running another hand through his hair, Luke thinks about what the hell just happened.

* * *

Turns out, he got proposed to after the sparring session, but Paz retracts his statement after a council meeting two weeks later. Flustered, Luke’s face is red as he gets pseudo-rejected in front of the council members, Mando already having stepped out. Even if he would have declined the offer, it’s just as embarrassing to get a proposal taken back.

“You are not mine to ask for, Jetii.” Paz says, already turning to walk out the door.

“I’m not a Jedi, for fucks’s sake! And what the hell do you mean by that?!” Luke calls out after him, the council room erupting in giggles.

He doesn’t get an answer. 

Bo-Katan and Koska snicker behind him, knocking into his shoulder as they pass him to leave. 

Once again, Luke is left alone in the council room, with the sunset a fiery orange in the sky. Luke decides he hates Mandalorians, then he thinks about Mando and Grogu, the feeling of family that surrounds them, and has to fix that statement. 

He hates most Mandalorians.

* * *

_“Call your uncle.”_

Luke opens his mouth to protest, but he has none and his mother gives him a look before he can even try to form one. 

Cara snickers from her corner, and Luke gives her a glare. 

“Mother..,” Luke starts, and both of his parents double down on the look, the one that tells Luke he’s in deep shit. 

He feels like a little kid, with his hand caught in the cookie jar, trying to grab a blue cookie before he runs back upstairs and tries to sleep again. 

_“Luke, you haven’t spoken to Obi-wan since you left, and he misses you,”_ His father says, and Luke sighs. 

He knows his father is right, and that’s why he can’t even argue. However, he’s been avoiding his uncle, dodging his calls, ignoring halo-messages as well, and Luke does feel guilty, but Luke can’t face him yet, because he knows the minute he gets his Uncle Obi on a call, he’s going to accidentally corner him for information. 

“The Mandalorian Senators were elected last month, and they are going to be sworn into the Senate next month, I’ve already making plans to travel to Coruscant with the council and Mand’alor,” Luke explains, “Other than going to annoy my most beloved twin sister like I’ve already planned, I hope to meet Uncle Obi at the Temple...there are something I want to ask him about.” 

He doesn’t tell them that Luke hopes to ask him a few questions about what Luke has been wondering since he arrived here. The image of his uncle holding the Duchess while she dies by Maul’s hand, and the Darksaber burning harshly, passes his mind. He takes a deep breath, Luke already feels uncomfortable cornering his beloved uncle on a comms call. 

_“Good, that’ll be good, you should message him and let him know that, so he doesn’t continue to think one of his favorite Padawans now hates him.”_ Luke rolls his eyes at his father’s dramatics. 

“I will, I have to go, I’ll call you next week,” Luke claims, the smirk growing on Cara’s face as he lies to his parents about where he needs to be. 

_“We love you, Luke!”_ His mother steps in, _“We are so proud of you!”_

“I love you too,” Luke smiles, shutting off the comms call with a wave. He drops his head into his hands. 

Cara flips to the next page of the book she’s reading, “Lying to our parents now, are we?” 

Luke shoots her a glare, lifting his finger to point at her, “Don’t you dare.” 

“So...when are you going to tell me about your crush on Mando?” Cara asks, and Luke freezes. 

Slowly, Luke starts to gather the halopads on his desk, placing them in the drawer, eyes catching on the note he can only safely assume Mando left him all those months ago, the navy blue ink still shining. The feeling bursts into his chest, the butterflies erupting into a beautiful dance. A blush rises to Luke’s cheeks. Standing up, he adjusts his tunic, clipping the sabers back to his belt. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Luke declares, making his way towards the table where they’ve started keeping their drinks. 

Closing the book that she most definitely was pretending to read, Cara lets out a hardy laugh. Following him over to the table, Luke cannot believe this is the person he’s chosen to be his closest friend on Mandalore. 

He hands her a shot of tihaar, smirking as she knocks it back with a grimace. He takes one too, trying to soothe the feeling that came with lying to his parents, what is going on with Uncle Obi, and the way he felt about Mando.

* * *

“I think it’s safe to say you’re the first person I’ve met with a worse sleep schedule than me.” 

Mando appears seemingly out of nowhere, coming out from the shadows of the library. It’s almost the middle of the night, and Luke is sitting at his favorite spot in the library, the fireplace warm in front of the table he’s seated at. Mando moves to stand close. 

The light of the dancing flames reflect off the side of Mando’s helmet, and it matches the glow that sits in the Force around him, like a soft blanket, steady and calming. It’s...like moonlight in a way, the way that it’s always wrapped around Luke like it should have been the silver tendrils that floated down to the ground that Luke found comfort in, instead of chasing after stars and suns. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s the same thing my father said to me the first time he found me in the library back home when I was a teenager,” Luke says, stopping for a moment, before continuing, “He used to get nightmares too.” 

Mando hums, and Luke gestures for him to take the place across from Luke. The chair creaks a bit under the weight of Mando and his armor. He places the book he was holding down on the table, resting one of his hands on it. Luke leans forward on his elbows, paying close attention to the man. 

“Nightmares must run in the family?” Mando poses it as a question. 

“Sort of, though it might be a strong connection to the Force things, maybe it was a Chosen One thing for my father. My sister has never gotten nightmares like I do,” Luke explains. 

Mando tilts his head, confusion radiating off him, “Chosen one?” 

“I still can’t believe that you don’t know much about the Jedi, I’m not quite used to it,” Luke starts the story, twirling his pen in his fingers, “My father is the Jedi’s Chosen One, he has one of the highest midichlorian counts ever, and he was destined to bring balance back to the Force. When he killed Chancellor Palpatine, who was secretly the Sith Lord Darth Sidious orchestrating the entire Clone Wars, alongside Master Mace Windu, he did just that.” 

“I remember hearing a bit about that...but I thought you said your father wasn’t a Jedi?” 

“He left the Jedi Order after that, seeing as he was breaking so many of the rules, but mostly he felt like that time in his life was over, and it was time for the next adventure. Leia and I were born about two months later, so he spent a good portion of our younger years training us, and even now, he’s still teaching me things. I think he’s much happier this way, getting to wake up next to my mother, have Leia and I in his life, still annoying his old master,” Luke tells him, and Mando nods. 

His heart aches a bit, missing his father so much, it had been too long since they had truly talked. Luke wishes he could tell his father everything, about his blossoming feelings for Mando, about the nightmares. Wishing he was a child again so he could curl in between his parents and just release the amount of thoughts he had in his head. 

“Seems like a nice life,” Mando affirms, and one of the corners of Luke’s lips tugs up, Luke doesn’t even try to hide his smile. 

“Yeah, it really does. I’m a bit jealous if I’m being honest. He gets to walk around the gardens at our house on Naboo every single day for the rest of his life, and I can’t really blame him for choosing that view over any other place in the galaxy.” 

“I’ve heard Naboo is beautiful, but I’ve never been.” 

“Maybe, The Mand’alor and his son will have to visit Former Vice Chancellor Padmé Amidala, and the rest of the Skywalker-Naberries for a diplomatic mission to Naboo,” Luke says, and Luke can’t help but revel in the giddy feeling that bursts from his own chest, “You know, after the treaty is finished, and Mandalore is officially, once again, part of the Republic.” 

There’s that feeling that comes off Mando in waves, and once again, it’s familiar. It almost feels like the Force is screaming at him to remember, but Luke can’t place it. It’s that silvery piece of moonlight that Luke wants to grasp and hold onto, feeling like a connection to it will illuminate the world around Mando, not that he can’t do it himself. It’s almost like...Din is the Moon, always there but fully becoming himself when he’s comfortable with someone, like when the Sun dances behind it as nightfalls, letting everyone know how it can shine just as bright. 

“I think Grogu would like finding new frogs to terrorize.” Once again, Mando’s voice is soft, which Luke notices he only sounds like that around Grogu, and Luke feels like sunshine. 

“Good...that’s good.” 

Mando nods, and Luke watches as his gloved hands open the book, fingers flipping through the pages, a light touch. Luke wonders how his hands would feel on his skin, and the calluses that must hide underneath the worn leather, built up from handling weapons for so many years, just like Luke. He mentally kicks himself for letting his mind go there, this was supposed to be a dumb crush that Luke got over once he really met the man, which obviously only made it worse. Mando is good, simply and wonderfully, and so beautiful. Luke doesn’t have to see his face ever to know he’s handsome through and through. 

Maybe it’s just that Luke can’t pay attention, but he knows Mando isn’t paying attention to the book in his hands either. Luke closes his book with a loud thud, leaning back in his chair. The helmet tilts up in Luke’s direction, and Luke imagines he raises an eyebrow when he does it. 

“You know, I’ve never asked, but how did you, of all people, end up with the Darksaber hanging from your hip?” It’s Luke’s turn to pose the question, and Mando follows suit, closing his book and putting it down. 

Mando leans back in his chair, arms going up behind his helmet, shoulders broad compared to his waist, like he knows Luke can’t stop staring at him. Holy fuck, this man must know he’s attractive. 

“I used to be a bounty hunter, and one day, I took an assignment without a puck, only a tracking fob, and coordinates. Only other information I was given was that the thing I was looking for was fifty years old, and I had to bring him in. Turns out, fifty years looks a lot different on some species, and I found Grogu. They wanted me to give him up, but I couldn’t, they were going to hurt him, he’s a baby.” Mando starts his story, and Luke immediately is entranced. 

“So, you rescued him.” 

Mando nods, “The man who wanted him was named Gideon. He had taken the Darksaber from Mandalore, and since it had been gone so long, no one knew. He wanted to experiment on Grogu, and even had taken him from when I already thought he was dead. Boba, Fennec and I staged a rescue, and during that...I killed Gideon, winning the Darksaber off him. Someone got word that there was a Mandalorian wandering about with the Darksaber on his hip, and all of the sudden I was here, becoming King, _Mand’alor_ the Protector.” 

Fennec must be the woman from the party that Boba walked off with. Luke wonders if he’ll ever get a chance to introduce himself. 

“Did you know what the saber meant when you clipped on your belt?”

“Partially, I was a foundling, but The Tribe raised me, they follow the strict creed of not removing helmets in front of those who are not clan, which I’m sure you know. I was always told that Mandalore was not a place worth returning too, so most of the mythos about this place I’ve ignored,” Mando replies. 

“You’ve said it before, but what’s a foundling? Is it like a youngling?” Luke queries, and a sharp feeling of joy surrounds the two of them, rolling off Mando in waves. Gods, what Luke would do if it meant making Mando feel this happy forever. 

“I think so. A foundling is a child who is found during battle, or during missions. By creed, no matter how strict, Mandalorians cannot leave a child to fate during these circumstances. Either they are returned to their own kind, or they are taken in. I was raised in Fight Corps, since my parents had died during a battle in the Clone Wars. Some clans take foundlings in, raise them as their own,” Mando continues, and Luke nods.

A bit of sadness surrounds Mando now, and Luke wishes he could bring back the joy he felt just minutes ago, “You weren’t adopted by a clan, were you?” 

“No, I was not,” Mando says quietly, the pain evident in his voice. Losing his parents, and then being alone from then on, must have hurt more than Mando would ever say. 

Luke watches as the helmet turns away from Luke’s general direction, a bit of sadness, frustration oozes out into the room from behind the beskar. Luke wants so badly to reach out across the table, and take Mando’s hand in his, but something stops him. Almost like the Force is whispering to him that it isn’t quite time yet. Luke gives him a sympathetic smile instead, hoping that Mando can tell that Luke is here, and he understands more than he realizes. 

“I’m glad that you were able to take in Grogu, give him a loving home, with a wonderful family. He deserves a good family.” Luke reassures, and there’s that warm feeling again. 

“This is the way. It’s just us, our clan of two, Clan Mudhorn,” Mando confided, and Luke shrugs. 

“Big enough.” 

“Yeah...I guess.” 

Luke watches as Mando’s feelings curl in on themself, a reaction that Luke knows all too well. 

“Still plenty of time for it to grow if you want it too,” Luke breathes, moving his hand in the air like he’s swatting the thought away from Mando’s head, and hoping that Mando can catch the hidden meaning behind his words, that he wants it to be him...even if that seems crazy. 

Mando moves his head up to look at Luke again. Luke gives him a bright smile, which would have his father knocking him the back of the head, telling him that he’s so far gone, and then softly calls him his ‘Sunshine”. It’s Luke’s true smile, one that he never thought he would be giving the Mand’alor, but now he can’t stop. 

“Yeah, plenty of time,” Mando hums, and Luke knows the feeling in his chest isn’t going away anytime soon. 

Mando ducks his head, picking the book back up, opening to the page he had marked. This time, Luke lets him read, letting his mind wander, watching as the fire dances where it makes its home, casting Mando in a beautiful orange glow. Luke turns back to the halopads in front of him, scrolling mindlessly through the treaty, reading and rereading, trying to find a way to distract himself from staring at the man sitting in front of him. He’s glad he’s still got a long time left here, because Luke doesn’t want to imagine leaving anymore. 

Of course, Mando is the moon, it’s so obvious to Luke now, looking at him across the table. There he is, truly, Luke can feel it in the Force, that maybe Mando isn’t completely laid out bare for Luke, chest open wide to see all the man’s deepest darkest secrets, but it’s enough, it’s a sign of trust. Sure, he is there all the time, as The Mand’alor, as Mando, but it takes a certain environment for whoever is truly behind the helmet to shine. Just like the Moon, always waiting in the sky, for nightfall when the Sun takes a break and illuminates its companion, allowing it to take over as the light of the world. Maybe, he isn’t fully visible all the time, but even when he isn’t shining, he’s still there.

Luke would like to know that man one day, but for now, knowing Mando is enough, it will always be enough for Luke. How could it not? When the man is this wonderful, Luke pities the people who missed out on the chance to know him, especially if they chose not to for silly and petty reasons. Luke would fight battles, whether with himself or the whole galaxy, to be able to know Mando for the rest of his life, and that thought doesn’t even scare him, even though...it probably should.

* * *

Grogu sits on Luke’s lap in the courtyard, it’s a cloudy day, but a nice one nonetheless. They’ve been meditating, learning to connect to the world around them through the Force, Gorgu picking back up on the bit of training he got at the Temple before he was taken. 

Grogu is still fuzzy with those memories, and Luke doesn’t pry, Gorgu seems willingly enough to share with him when he can remember. It’s nice being around another force-sensitive, especially one so in tune with the Force. Grogu had been progressing well in the two and a half months that Luke had taken over his training, now being able to pick up three medium sized rocks without feeling tired. 

It’s one of the first lessons that Luke remembers being taught, sitting with his father and sister in the gardens, under his favorite tree, feeling the life around him, relishing in the way Force Signatures moved, how they had a certain aura to them. His mother is a soft blue, his sister is a matching bright gold, and his father, of course, is a fiery orange. 

Grogu shows Luke an image of Mando, playing catch with him, a small silver ball in his fingertips. It’s a good memory, one that Gorgu likes to use to calm himself down when Mando isn’t around to hold him. 

“That’s good, Grogu, it’s good for you to find ways to calm yourself when others can’t be there for you,” Luke praises, and Gorgu coos. 

Grogu shows him another memory, the two of them by a fire, Mando humming a song that Luke doesn’t know, but Grogu is bright with love for his father, this memory being one of his favorites. Before the memory fades away from Luke’s mind, in it, Mando reaches down and adjusts the necklace that Grogu had around his neck, and Grogu tells him it’s a sign, a sign of a Mandalorian. 

Luke opens his eyes, and sees Grogu reaching it up towards him. Luke smiles, tentatively wrapping his fingers around it, rubbing at the metal. 

“Can you tell me what it’s supposed to be?” Luke asks, and Grogu shakes his head. 

“It’s the mythosaur. It’s a symbol of Mandalore, and more significantly, the symbol of the Mand’alor.” 

Mando appears behind them, they both turn to see him. Grogu babbles, climbing out of Luke’s lap to tottle over to his father, who smoothly crouches to pick up his son. Grogu snuggles close to him, sitting happily in the crook of Mando’s arm, the sweetest smile on his face. Mando lifts a hand to touch one of Grogu’s ears, and the womp-rat wraps his tiny hands around Mando’s finger instead. Both of them send love for each other into the Force, and Luke knows that kind of love well, his father is still not great at shielding his feelings. The two of them are adorable.

Luke gives him one of his sunshine smiles, slowly rising to greet him, dusting off his pants. Mando moves his head to look at Luke. 

“Hi,” Luke breathes, and there’s that feeling again. 

“How was your lesson today?” Mando queries, adjusting Grogu in his arms. 

“Good, Grogu has gotten very good at showing me images, and he’s been able to find memories that help calm him down, while also being able start identifying how people might be feeling,” Luke explains, reaching out to touch the tip of Grogu’s ears, who grins and giggles. 

“What memories might those be?” 

“All memories of you, he loves you very much,” Luke tells him, eyes moving up to meet the visor. 

“...Oh, that’s nice,” He looks down at Grogu, “Thinking of your old man when you need to calm down, huh?” 

Grogu coos, releasing Mando’s fingers to reach up towards the edge of the helmet, pushing up against it, wanting to see his father’s face. 

“Hey buddy, not right now,” Mando murmurs, gently taking one of Grogu’s hands in his, a small whine coming out of the child. 

“We’re done for the day, if the two of you want to have some alone time,” Luke says, taking a step closer to the duo. 

Mando lifts Grogu up a bit higher in his arms, “What do you say, Grogu? I can take the rest of the night off.” 

Grogu screeches in delight, which has both of the men laughing. Grogu grins at the sound, slapping his hands against the helmet. 

“I’ll take that as a resounding yes, Mando,” Luke smiles, starting to take a step over to grab his cloak, but Mando takes another step forward. 

They are as close as they were the day of the sparring match, and Luke takes a deep, shaky breath. He’s never felt like this around anyone, someone who makes him feel like magic, even the simplest of words from Mando’s lips being stuck in Luke’s head for days, weeks even. 

“Thank you, Luke, for being willing to teach Grogu, it...it means a lot, to both of us...to me,” Mando admits, and Luke is shocked. 

“Oh yes, well, any way I can help, it's a hard thing to control, but Grogu will be all the better for it,” Luke says, voice low and soft.

Both of them just stand like that for a moment, looking at each other, and Luke opens his mouth to say something else, when Grogu reaches up and smacks his father’s helmet again. 

“Buddy, you can’t smack me every time you want my attention,” Mando scolds, pointing a finger at him, but Grogu just giggles. 

“Go, spend some time with your son.” 

Mando nods, and Grogu starts shifting in his arms, ready for the two of them to leave, and spend some time together. Mando’s field of vision lingers on Luke for another moment longer, before turning and walking back inside from the sparring grounds, leaving Luke alone.

* * *

Luke sits on the balcony. 

Mando had found Luke screaming, and it’s the tenth one since he found him the first time a long three months prior. After being shaken awake, Luke had rushed to the bathroom and vomited, feeling the pity rise off Mando. If Luke didn’t feel so fucking numb, he would have been more frustrated at the man. 

Luke lets Mando make him the cup of hot chocolate tonight, it was a particularly bad night. He hands it to Luke, the mug warms his hands. After their first conversation, after one of Luke’s nightmares, almost a month and a half ago now, they’ve started actually talking. Mando usually asks about his childhood, and Luke asks about his adventures. 

Luke takes a sip, “It’s perfect, thank you.” 

Mando nods, “Of course.”

They lapse into silence, Mando allowing Luke to calm down and find his thoughts. He knows more of the constellations now, and the two of them have passed their favorites back and forth. 

“What was the nightmare about this time?” Mando asks, just like always. 

But this time, Luke answers. 

“Palpatine. He was torturing me on the second Death Star, the big planet destroying machine that the Empire built. Vader was watching, and Palpatine was using force lightning on me. It’s how the other me got his scars, it’s what I’ve always believed my birthmarks to be from. An averted timeline makes for some interesting reasons in this one,” Luke tries to joke, but Mando doesn’t laugh. 

Mando just hums, shifting in his seat next to Luke. The silence should be nice, it’s usually what Leia and him lull into, but after getting to hear Mando’s voice so often now, it feels wrong. Luke likes talking with Mando, the man is so full of life, so intriguing that Luke just wants to know everything about him. Mando had given him the little details now, but Luke wants to know more. Luke tries to relax, rolling back his shoulders, trying to get the muscles to untense after a bad night. 

“Do you blame yourself?” Mando’s voice breaks through the palace’s nighttime sounds, the one’s Luke had become so used to. 

“What?” Luke asks, confused by the question, and where it came from. 

“Everything you say and how you talk about your nightmares,” Mando pauses, obviously trying to find the right words, and Luke gives him the time he needs, “When Grogu started having bad nightmares a couple of years ago, I was told that usually nightmares are a consequence of something, either fear or other things, so I was...I was wondering if you blame yourself for them when you don’t need too.” 

Luke’s heart stops. No one had asked him something like this directly. Everyone had always told him that none of it was his fault, his father brushing back his hair when he was young, making sure that Luke knew that it was the Force doing this, trying to show him something. His father had always been protective of him after that. When Luke and Leia turned nine, and Luke started waking up screaming more and more, Anakin had caved and took him to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. 

The Jedi Council, excluding Uncle Obi, Master Windu and Master Yoda, hadn’t helped Luke anymore than they helped Anakin when he was having dreams about Padmé. They all had tried, but it was obvious that if Anakin had been as close to turning to the Dark Side as Palpatine, and even Anakin himself, had admitted, then the nightmares Luke must have had to be about what could have been. 

Mundi’s voice still rings in Luke’s head sometimes, _“It may be best to reevaluate your attachments to the ones you love.”_

Luke got frustrated. His father was exasperated. It was similar advice Yoda had given his father about the nightmares about his mother. Luke remembers watching Uncle Obi and his father argue on the steps up to Temple, watching all the Coruscant traffic, and that it was obvious to Luke that his father was hoping that the Council would help Luke in a way that they couldn’t help him. So they went back to Naboo, Luke’s nightmares continued, and Luke watched as a part of his father’s heart broke every time he had to wake Luke from his screaming. 

In turn, Luke blamed himself for the nightmares more than he ever blamed the Force like everyone else did, especially since he did have a good connection to it, and it’s shown him things that he would never have experienced without it. Everyone else used to ponder and wonder why it was Luke that had these nightmares, and not Leia, or not both of them. Luke always knew exactly why, he was strong in the Force, and so much of what Luke could have been had been uprooted when his father didn’t fall to the dark side. 

“My family shouldn’t have to be forced to know about what could have been, and they wouldn’t be, if I wasn’t plagued with the nightmares,” Luke whispers, and Mando turns his head in Luke’s direction. 

“...So you do blame yourself.” 

“Of course I do. I’ll never forget the look on my father’s face after he begged me to tell him what they were about when I was eleven, and I finally caved and yelled at him about all the things that version of him, Darth Vader, had done to me, to Leia, to Uncle Obi and our mother. He stopped asking about them after a while, and I can’t even be upset with him for that.” 

Tears fill Luke’s eyes, and he turns his head away, and down to stare at the mug in his hands, so Mando can’t see. He tries to even out his breathing, wishing he could vanish into thin air, always hating when people saw him emotional. Then, Mando’s hand reaches out and takes the mug out of Luke’s grip, and the warm leather of Mando’s glove wraps around Luke’s left hand, giving it a squeeze. Luke turns back, tears almost at their breaking point, Mando angling himself to look at Luke directly. 

“You blame yourself, and you feel guilty that The Force has made you it’s mouthpiece for its own faults. Maybe, it’s a repercussion of a timeline that never came to pass, maybe it’s because of something else. This is not something you can control, no matter how many times you meditate, or beg. The Force just doesn’t think you need to know yet, I’m guessing. Luke, the nightmares aren’t your fault,” Mando tells him firmly. 

A part of Luke hates that Mando is right, that he makes sense. It’s the same thing everyone else in his life has told him for so long. He has just seen so many horrible things, things that he never wished anyone to see, not even anyone who has ever wronged him. He watches his father force choke his mother out of anger while pregnant with Leia and him, Uncle Obi finding all the bodies of the Jedi his father had struck down, his sister’s life turned upside down by a single order of a man who held too much power, and his father burning from the inside out, a supernova, a broken and bloody man.

“You are not to blame for some mystical thing that ties us all together being angry and trying to repair itself, Luke, ” Mando whispers, so soft, so kind, “You’re just a man, you’re still you, still Luke."

He looks at Mando, who hasn’t let go of his hand yet. The tears break free, rolling down his face. It’s the right words at the right time, finally from someone who doesn’t feel obligated to calm him down from a nightmare or soothe his anxious mind. The weight that has been sitting on Luke’s chest for so long finally lifts, and he can breath again, he can be again. 

The sobs break free from Luke’s lungs and all of the sudden, Mando’s arms wrap around him, pulling Luke into his arms, both of them falling to their knees on the ground. The beskar is cool, and a bit uncomfortable, but for the first time in so long, Luke feels free. 

They stay like that for a while, Mando just holding Luke as he cries, not saying anything, just letting Luke get it all out. The stars are the only other witnesses to Luke’s breakdown. He hasn’t cried like this in so long, years even, after the nightmares started eating away at him more and more, he was a bit more secretive about how they really made him feel. A part of Luke had been empty for so long, and now he finally feels like he can finally feel like himself again, in a way he hasn’t since he was a child. 

Eventually, Luke’s eyes have run out of tears, and Mando loosens his arms to let Luke sit back. Mando reaches up, wiping the last of the tears off Luke’s cheeks, and Luke would blush furiously, if he wasn’t already red from crying and ready to tip over from sleep deprivation. 

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Mando whispers, and Luke doesn’t protest as he helps him up. 

One of Mando’s hands finds its way to Luke’s shoulder, the other on his elbow, guiding Luke towards the bed. Luke briefly wonders if this breaks all the protocols that are in place for the Ambassadors, and how inappropriate this must be in the eyes of the Senate. But, with the warmth radiating through Mando’s gloves and Luke’s sleep shirt, he can’t find it in himself to care. 

Luke slips back under the covers, with Mando hovering at the edge of the bed. Luke looks up at the visor, and the thoughts of the color of Mando’s eyes flutter through his mind once again, and he almost asks this time. But he stops, it’s not something for him to know, no matter how desperately he wants to know even the deepest depths of Mando’s soul. 

Instead, Luke says, “Thank you, Mando. You don’t have to take care of me like this.” 

Mando shrugs, and something pushes into the Force from Mando that Luke can’t quite place, but he’s felt it around Mando before, but Luke is so tired, from so many things that his brain can’t process it. 

“...Din.” 

Luke is taken aback, “What?” 

“My name. My name is Din Djarin.” He says, and Luke’s breath is caught in his throat. 

“Okay, Din,” Luke smiles, and Din nods, stance awkward. Luke imagines that he’s smiling too. 

Luke was now fighting sleep, eyes drooping, and promises of a dreamless slumber ring out from the Force. Din...his name is Din...reaches out and places his hand next to Luke’s on the bed. Luke can no longer help the feeling that sits in his chest.

“Rest, I’ll find you tomorrow,” Din whispers, and Luke can feel his eyes on him through the visor. 

“Goodnight, Din.” 

“Goodnight, Luke.” 

There’s something about the way Din says his name, that has his head spinning, wanting to chase the way his lips move around the word, and Luke knows in that moment, he is done for. 

Din brushes his fingers against Luke’s as he steps away from the bed, before turning and walking away. The red cloak flowing behind him, he stops in the doorway of Luke’s bedroom, and turns to give Luke one last look. Luke gives him a sleepy smile, forcing his eyes to stay open for just a moment longer. Luke can tell that Din wants to stay longer, he can see it in his body language, and Luke wishes he would, but something is stopping him. The Force surrounds him with that same feeling again, and with one last nod, Din leaves the doorway, his footsteps echoing in the empty living room. 

Luke hears the doors to his rooms click shut, and he can breathe again. As sleep takes him into her loving arms, Luke thinks about the way Din took his hand earlier. It set a fire in Luke’s soul, and he felt like he was on fire, burning with the power of a million binary suns. The Force whispers something in his ear just before he slips into unconsciousness, reminding him of the feeling that Luke had avoided naming for so long. The one little word that Luke couldn’t put to how he felt about Din. It was just a small crush...it wasn’t that, it couldn’t be. 

_Oh. But it is love, isn’t it?_


	4. wanting was enough, for me, it was enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fucking FINALLY! I am sorry that this chapter took so long compared to the last three, but once again there is a lot of ground to cover, and so many things to happen! Thank you all for all your kind comments on the last chapter, it made me so happy! I am really excited about this chapter. There was so much ground to cover that when writing this, I realized that it was already 17,000 words, and I hadn't even come close to finishing the beginning of it, so I had to split them. This chapter and the next are sister chapters, and that one will be out much sooner than this one was, since it's pretty much already completely finished, just edits and some more additions to the story. Also, there is a scene in this chapter, that happens to be very similar to some art by Ngozi, I had it mostly written when the post came out, but some things were changed that were definitely inspired by her work, so kudos to her and her amazing art work! And one final thank you to my friend Lele, who cheered me on as I finished this chapter :D  
> For the next two chapters, I did make a spotify playlist that you can listen to [here!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/00EoyTLuzOghEM5LCVYePx?si=P_a4Vs1hTi-egMMEfGCrhQ)   
> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

“Grogu, you’re getting a lot better at meditation!” Luke praises, letting the toddler, if one could consider a fifty year old humanoid alien a toddler, tottle his way into Luke’s lap, plopping down and staring up at Luke. 

“Ba!” Grogu smiles, and Luke smiles right back. 

Grogu is strong in the Force, and already working through things quite smoothly. He was able to meditate quite well, which Luke thanks whatever limited him he spent in the temple for that, and moving things isn’t too hard for him either. 

“There’s my favorite Jedi-in-training.” Luke looks from Grogu, to see Mando stepping onto the training platform. 

“Hey Mando!” Luke greets, instinctively calling him by the title he had been previously given, still unsure how much Mando wants him to use it, and something about Mando tenses up a bit. 

Crouching down in front of Luke, Mando rests a hand on Grogu’s head, who coos and reaches up for his father, who gladly picks him up. Mando looks back up at Luke, his blue eyes connecting with the visor, and for a moment, the world stops spinning. 

“I gave you my name for a reason, Luke...I want you to use it,” Din presses, each word emphasized, making sure he heard it correctly, and Luke flushes. 

“Okay, Din.” Gods, there was something about the way his name fit on Luke’s lips, almost like it was meant to be there forever. Din nods, moving back to focus his attention on his son. 

“Did you two have a good training session?” Din asks, and Luke nods. 

“He’s progressing quite well, I think he’ll be at the top of his class,” Luke jokes, Din chuckles. 

Grogu grins at the two of them, still reaching up towards Luke even though he is in Din’s arms. Luke doesn’t want to leave them, each moment he spends with the two of them is so warm, kind, and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to go when his time here is done. But that’s months away, almost a full year to the day.

Instead, Luke offers, “If you have some free time, I could show you some tips on how to wield the Darksaber.” 

Din looks up from Grogu, and nods in agreement, already setting his son back down. 

“Okay buddy, go sit in the corner like you do when I spar with Cara, alright?” Din instructs, and Grogu tottles away. 

Din reaches out a hand to help Luke up, which Luke gladly takes. When he’s on his feet, he reluctantly takes his hand out of Din’s, both of their fingertips lingering for a moment too long. 

He takes a couple of steps back, unclipping the sabers from his belt. They hum in his hands, and he appreciates the calming feeling they bring to him. He ignites them, the brilliant emerald green shines throughout the courtyard, and Luke loves the way they fit in his hands, fit him. 

“Does the color mean anything?” Din asks, and Luke smiles, nodding. 

“For a while, they were the color of Jedi Consulars, one of the three schools that a Jedi Knight could go into after they were knighted, since so many of them wielded the color. They were sent out to help create peace and harmony throughout the galaxy. They wanted to help the galaxy through words, trying to find non-violent ways to use the Force, however many of them were still formidable warriors.” Luke explains, “Green is usually tied to those who tend to use the Force above everything else.” 

Din nods, reaching for the darksaber, fingers gripping the hilt tightly. It looked heavier than any lightsaber that Luke had ever seen, dense almost, like it weighed Din down. 

“Is it heavy?” Luke asks, and Din shrugs. 

“Not any different from other blades I’ve trained with, but I’m used to the weight of beskar,” Din answers, and that Luke understands. 

He turns his sabers in his hands, he likes the symmetry that comes with dual wielding lightsabers, the fact that he’s had to train harder to insure he knows how to use them, that he can protect himself and not get caught up it the power of what two kyber crystals can do, after all, his father has a cautionary tale from dual-wielding lightsabers. 

“I always thought that  _ Jetii  _ just carried one weapon, but you have two?” Din questions, nodding his head towards Luke’s hand. 

Smiling, Luke takes a couple of steps closer, holding the sabers up vertically in his hands. The green light reflects off of the silver beskar, casting Din in a green glow that Luke can’t look away from. 

“When I started my training, I started with a single lightsaber, but I had connected with two kyber crystals,” Luke gestures to the one in his right hand, his longer one, “I initially only made one lightsaber, but something felt off. My Aunt Ahsoka is a dual-wielder like I am, she’s the one who trained me, she offered one of her sabers to me one day, and I don’t know, it just fit. We made my shorter saber the next day, and I’ve preferred the art of  _ jar’kai _ ever since.” 

Din nods, and Luke disengages his sabers, placing them back on his belt. He gestures to Din to engage the Darksaber. 

When he clicks the switch, the Force around Luke rips itself apart in pain, and Luke gasps, clutching his chest as his knees give out from under him. A wave of nausea washes over him, and he almost tips over from vertigo. There was so much heartache surrounding that crystal, generations of suffering, and the screaming, all the screaming, Luke can’t stop hearing it. His vision starts to go hazy, and almost as quickly as it started, it stops. 

Din’s hands are on his shoulder, he’s crouching in front of him, brushing the hair out of his face, and he’s saying something, but Luke can’t make out the words. He lifts his eyes, trying to focus on the beskar in front of him, the feeling of Din’s hands on him, and he’s back, breathing heavily. 

“Are you alright? What happened?” Din asks, gripping Luke’s shoulders tight. 

Luke shakes his head, breathing still unsteady, “I don’t know, I didn’t expect that, it’s...it’s like, the Darksaber has held onto all the pain that has been felt by the Mandalorians, and is constantly screaming whenever it’s ignited. Kyber crystals have a knack for remembering things like that.” 

Din slowly helps him stand again, Luke reassuring him that he’s alright. Grogu tottles over to them, reaching up towards Luke, and Luke picks up him, letting him nuzzle into his neck. Luke reaches up, places a hand on Grogu’s head. 

“I’m okay, little one, it’s okay,” Luke assures, and Grogu coos, resting his head on Luke’s shoulder. 

Din stares at the two of them, and Luke wonders if he’s overstepping, knowing that a relationship with a Padawan is similar to being a father to them, since over time the two of them will develop a strong bond. But, the feeling around Din isn’t angry or sad, it’s happy, content more worried than anything else. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Din questions again, one of his hands still not leaving Luke’s shoulder, and Luke gives him a bright smile. 

“It comes with having a strong connection to the Force, I’m just surprised Grogu didn’t feel it as harshly as well, but maybe it’s because he’s used to it.” 

“I’ve had to wield it a couple of times in front of him, so that would make sense,” Din says, reaching a hand out to touch the tip of his ears. 

“We’ll just have to try again another time, when I know what I’m expecting,” Luke smiles. 

Din tenses up a bit, before whispering, “Are you sure?” 

Luke tilts his head to the side, feeling warm at Din caring so much, “Of course, Din, I can handle it, I just wasn’t expecting it.” 

Luke hopes he’s convincing, because in all honesty, he doesn’t know how he’ll react to it the next time Din ignites it. Luke wonders why he had such a visceral reaction to it, still feeling the effects of it. However, if there is one thing that Luke isn’t, it’s not a quitter. Luke will meditate on it forever if he has too, in order for Din to feel comfortable even having it on his waist in front of him. 

“How about we get Grogu some food before he tries to go after the frogs in the garden again, and we can talk about the next steps for the treaty?” Luke offers a way to get their minds off of what just happened. 

There’s the feeling again, when Din softens his stance, “Yeah, let’s.”

* * *

Sitting on the balcony with Din has become a comfort, especially after another dream about being on the Death Star with Palpatine and Vader. 

“So you think that your nightmares are a consequence of a timeline averted? Because Palpatine had rested everything on your father, and it all crumbled with he didn’t fall, because of that your aunt was able to tell everyone about Order 66?” Din confirms, handing Luke his mug of hot chocolate. Luke brings it up to his lips. 

_ Perfect.  _

“Pretty much, I still don’t know why me and not Leia, but from what I’ve seen, it feels like not a lot of her life has changed. I was supposed to be a farm boy on Tatooine, instead I’m an Ambassador, with full Jedi training, even if I’m not a Jedi.” Luke jokes, which gets a chuckle out of Din. 

“A farm boy, huh?” Din teases, and Luke rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, don’t know how well that would have worked out, but hey, not a bad deal. Still the greatest Jedi who ever lived in that Universe, but also might just be due to a process of elimination.” 

Amusement surrounds the two of them, with chuckles breaking free of both of their chests, and Luke smiles, happy, content, no matter how awful the nightmares are, the fact that Din is here trying to calm him down is nice, special. Luke won’t forget any of these moments for the rest of his life, holding them close to his chest. Luke doesn’t think about the word that the Force whispered to him that night, even though his heart pounds at the way Din’s laugh sounds. 

“I have a question,” Din starts, and Luke quirks an eyebrow up, turning to him just a bit, encouraging him to keep going, “You don’t call yourself a Jedi, but you would say it’s your religion, correct?” 

Luke nods, starting to explain, “I don’t call myself a Jedi purely out of respect. I didn’t really go through the same training as a Jedi Knight, just due to the fact I haven’t taken the correct trails, both the Initiate trials and Jedi Trials. There are many people I care for who are Jedi, and I want to respect their dedication to the Order. So, no I am not a Jedi, however, I would say I follow the Jedi code quite closely, trusting in the Force more than anything else, like a Jedi. I chose not to be a Jedi.”

“Why did you choose not to be a Jedi, the way you talk about it...you’re so fond of the Jedi, but you decided not to be one?” Din asks, turning his head to look up at the stars, Luke still in awe of the way the moonlight reflected off the beskar. 

“At first, it was because my father didn’t want to raise us in the Order. He was nervous we would end up as emotionally stunted as he did, and he didn’t want us to be soldiers. By the end of the Clone Wars...the Jedi weren’t what they were supposed to be. They had been blinded by their own hubris. But, time came for us to really start our training, Master Yoda and Master Windu, thought it would be best if we made that decision,” Luke reveals, and Din nods, taking in everything Luke says, “We were older by that point, and I don’t know, I think at the time, I was very disillusioned by the idea of the Jedi, not that I think the Order is bad, I just...my nightmares had already started, and I felt like...I wouldn’t have made a good Jedi at the time. I was young and full of fear that I was willing to act on to save my family. The temptations of keeping them safe over listening to the Force, pulled too much at me at one point, so I decided it would be best to be taught outside of The Order. Luckily, Master Yoda and Master Windu agreed, and had helped in any way they could. 

“I’m sorry you were so full of fear,” Din whispers, the feeling rolling off of him like waves meeting the shore, and Luke..wishes that he could say everything he wanted too. 

Luke shrugs, “I’ve grown, I was so young, seeing things no child should have to witness. I have found ways to understand the Force, even though it hurts. I know, that despite everything, despite the nightmares and the visions, that I am meant to see them. I know I should learn from the mistakes of that universe, and do what I can to help my family. I know now, that eventually they will die, and they will become one with the Force, and I will mourn, but I will be okay. I am okay not being right next to them, doesn’t mean I don’t love them, that I don’t miss them.” 

“I’m glad Grogu has you, though,” Din affirms, “I think it’s time for him to have some better control. You seem to have a good handle on things.” 

Part of Luke wants to scoff, shake his head at Din’s comment about him having a handle on his life, on things. It’s always felt quite the opposite, but Din is honest, he wouldn’t say something like that without an ounce of truth to it, so Luke shoves the angry part of his brain and decides to listen for once. 

“Thank you for trusting me with his training. I know it must be hard not being able to connect with him the same way, but know that he loves you a lot, and he cares deeply about you,” Din nods, taking in what Luke says. 

Din lets a moment pass before turning back towards Luke, “As a Mandalorian, we were always told that the Jedi are our greatest enemies, that we shouldn’t trust them, so when I had discovered that Grogu had powers...I was nervous that the Jedi would come and take him away, just like everyone had always told me. That’s part of the reason I kept him away, because there was less of a risk of someone finding him and taking him.” 

“I think that’s the saddest rumor about the Order, that people think they’re baby-snatchers, as someone who has a connection with the Force, sometimes the experience is difficult even as someone who is fully trained. It’s hard not feeling in control of yourself. Though, I agree that it’s hard to be separated from your family,” Luke says, shrugging his shoulders, before taking another sip of his hot chocolate, “I don’t blame you though, there are so many misconceptions about both of our cultures, that I wouldn’t be surprised if they couldn’t be fixed with a simple conversation between the two sides. Also, from my research I have found that we aren’t all that different, you know, Jedi and Mandalorians.” 

“What do you find that is so similar about Mandalorians and the Jedi?” Din queries, a smirk in his question. Luke takes another sip of his hot chocolate. 

“Despite what might be believed, we both want good things for the galaxy, We raise children accordingly, with protection and love, whether they look the same or not. While the Mandalorians might focus more on clans, maybe a more individualistic way of taking care of children, the Jedi instead focus on a large idea of what it means to be part of something.” Luke tells him, placing his mug down before leaning over and setting a hand next to Din’s, “Reminds me of your covert, from what I know.” 

To Luke’s shock, Din reaches out and rests his hand on Luke’s, the worn leather rough on the back of the hand, the orange fingertips radiating heat the leather doesn’t let through. Din nods his head, slowly turning it back up towards the sky. He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t need to, so they sit like that, hands touching until Din ushers Luke to bed.

* * *

It was after a particularly rough training session that Luke had asked Din to bring Grogu and meet him in his suite. 

Luke is pacing, trying to get all the nervous energy out of his body, when he feels Din’s presence start to make his way down the hallway, with a little bundle curled up in his arm. He has the door open before Din can even knock. Din tilts his head at Luke’s actions, and Luke sighs. 

“Everything okay?” 

“I’m not sure how to connect with Grogu currently, he’s been doing great with most of his training, especially the physical part of Force training...but he’s still so fearful,” Luke explains, as he lets Din and Grogu into his suites. 

The early evening sun casts a soft golden glow across the living room, as it sits low in the sky ready to drop down for its time to sleep. It’s a pleasant day, not too hot, so Luke has allowed the window to stay open, the birds sitting in their perches, singing songs of innocence that fill Luke’s rooms, and it’s nice...almost reminds him of home. 

Din nods, as he slowly makes his way into the room, footsteps echoing like they have so many times before, “His fears about the people who stole him from the Temple? The ones from before I found him?” 

“I believe so,” Luke affirms, gesturing for the two of them to sit down. 

Grogu sleeps softly in the crook of Din’s arm, a small hand clasping the edge of the breastpiece of his armor. Luke smiles at the two of them, an adorable pair. Especially Grogu, with his soft snores and snorts, the essence of a happy dream swirls around in his Force Signature. He’s glad that at least one of them has good dreams. Luke takes a deep breath, trying not to sigh, but he deflates anyways. 

“I’m just not sure what to do, I can’t force him to show me anything, but I can’t let him grow into these fears. It wouldn’t end well for anyone,” Luke confides, and Din reaches up, placing a protective hand on Grogu’s head. 

“Not that I want him too...but why not?” 

“Fear tends to lead to possessiveness. When you fear so greatly that you’ll lose someone, you want to hold onto them tighter, which makes sense, but for someone like Grogu...some who has a connection to the Force, it isn’t just that. The love that you feel moves away from being about the person that you love, and can turn into being how  _ you _ feel about them, and about making sure you never lose them. This kind of possessiveness can lead to the Dark Side.” states Luke, and his birthmarks start to burn, twisting and turning up his body. His thoughts fall onto Vader. 

“Really?” Din shifts to bring his son closer to his chest. 

“...It’s what almost happened with my father. He was so clouded with how  _ he  _ felt about my mother, that he almost stopped seeing her, and even Leia and I. He was so scared of losing her, that he forgot that he would be okay...even if she died. He held onto his fears so tightly, that he didn’t even notice when Palpatine was pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Luckily, something was able to break through that, and he understood that defeating Palpatine was the first step to assure my mother would be safe. However, it still took him a long time to come back into himself...to feel okay again.” 

Din hums, doesn’t say anything. Luke can’t let his eyes meet the visor, even though it feels like Din’s eyes are boring into him. The confession about his father was one that Luke had not planned to tell either of them, but Din had probably been able to put two and two together with all of his nightmares about his father falling to the Dark Side. Flashes of Vader cross his mind, and he takes a deep, centering breath. The monster in his dreams isn’t real, and he’s here, on Mandalore, with Din and Grogu, and his father is on Naboo with his mother and they are all okay. 

Grogu lets out a big yawn, stretching out his tiny arms up and out as he wakes up. His large brown eyes blink open, adjusting to the light in the room, and he lets out a chirp when he sees Luke sitting across from him. The child attempts to push his way out of his father’s arms to get over to him, and Luke chuckles, reaching out to him. 

“Good morning, little one, did you have a good nap?” Luke asks, and Grogu coos, immediately sending an image of frog catching by a swamp with Din helping him out. 

“That’s a lovely dream, buddy,” Luke whispers, reaching up to touch the tip of Grogu’s ears. 

As he holds Grogu, with Din staring at them, Luke thinks about what they can do to help Grogu. He looks up at Din, thinking about his own fears. Talking about them always helped, especially lately with the calming presence that surrounds the man who sits in front of him, comforting him after pretty much every nightmare. The thing is, Gorgu isn’t doing that, and the child prefers images over anything else, liking making noises, but making no rush to start speaking to Luke, which is fine, however, Luke needs to show Grogu that it’s okay to talk about his fears, especially with him, and especially with Din. 

“...I might have an idea but...” Luke starts, and Din tilts his head, showing he’s listening. 

“What is it?” 

“Well, I know that I could...” Luke trails off, not knowing how best to word what he’s about to say, “Well, I think it would be best if you could show Grogu that it’s okay to ‘talk’ about your fears.” 

Luke uses quotation hand symbols around the word talk, and Din tilts his head in the other way, showing confusing. 

“What do you mean?” Din queries. 

Luke sighs, trying to frame it delicately, “I need you to show me images of the things you fear, because I think it would show Grogu that it’s okay to confront the things you fear in a safe setting, and you’re his father, there’s no one he trusts and loves more than you. If you show me images, let me in, then, I believe Grogu would be willing to do the same.” 

“Okay.” There’s no hesitation in Din’s voice, but that’s where Luke grimaces a bit, “...There’s a catch.” 

“Yeah...you’ll need to remove your helmet,” Luke quite visibly winces as he says it, “I need to be able to have skin to skin contact, and the best way is to place my hands on your temples. It will give the clearest images, especially because you aren’t force-sensitive. I won’t look at your face, I can quite easily wear a blindfold, it’s not an issue. I understand if you’re uncomfortable with it, I can find a different way to connect with Grogu...” 

Din doesn’t say anything, Luke half expects him to take Grogu from his arms, and leave Luke in the room. Luke wouldn’t even blame him if he did, if this made Din stop wanting Luke to train Grogu all together. Luke looks away from him, and back down at Grogu, who’s placed his head on Luke’s shoulder, mumbling softly to himself, while still showing Luke images of his favorite blue cookies that they found on Nevarro, with images of another man holding him with Cara and Din in the background...little pieces of Grogu’s family. A soft smile grows on Luke’s face. He realizes he would do anything, if it meant protecting Grogu from the Dark Side. 

“I’ll do it.” Luke whips his head up to look at Din, who sits with arms crossed, visor pointed directly at him. 

“Really?” 

“Want me to change my mind?” Din quips, and Luke shakes his head, “I’d do anything for my kid, Luke...and besides, I trust you.” 

“Of course,” Luke breathes, breaking eye contact with the visor, “Okay...you take Grogu, sit on the floor. I’ll find something I can use to cover my eyes.” 

Din nods, both of them standing, Luke passing Grogu off. They both move to where they’re supposed to be, Luke walking into his room to grab a belt from his darker robes. 

Din is sitting cross-legged on the ground, Grogu sitting happily in his lap, grinning at Luke when he walks back into the room. Luke makes his way over to them, mirroring Din's position on the ground, before moving a hand out to lock the door with the Force, which Din tilts his head at. 

“Just in case,” Luke whispers, and the Force around Din changes from nervous to grateful, “Give me a second before you take off your helmet, I want to make sure I can’t see anything.” 

Reaching up, he wraps the black cloth around his eyes, tying in a tight knot on the back of his head. He starts to move around, bringing his hands in front of his eyes and shaking them. He sits back, even closing his own eyes just in case. He nods his head towards Din, and through the Force, Luke can feel Din’s movements, knowing he’s reaching up to take off the helmet. 

With the hiss of the pressurizer, Luke hears the metal touch the wood-flooring. Luke slowly schooches over, closer to Din until their knees are touching. Luke glups at the contact, but starts moving his hands towards the general direction of Din’s face, before hands wrap around Luke’s wrists, moving them closer until his fingers touch Din’s temples, ever so slightly brushing his hair. Both of the men take a quick breath inward, and pause. 

“Okay, I need you to think about some of the things that you fear,” Luke whispers, “Grogu should be able to pick up on it, due to his connection with the both of us. 

Under Luke’s fingers, Din nods. He doesn’t say a word, and part of Luke is grateful for that, since Luke already feels bad about being so close to him while he has his helmet off. Pushing into the Force, Luke passes the barrier that Din has set up in his mind, and the vision starts. 

_ A long boom went off as they ran, him in his father’s arms, his mother running next to them. Dirt rains from the sky as more loud noises come, and Din’s grip around his father’s neck tightens. He watches as people get shot down, murdered in front of him, by those droids.  _

It’s a memory for Din, this must be where his parents...died, and the Mandalorians came to his rescue, the day he became a foundling. Luke had only heard second hand about how bloodied and awful the Clone Wars were, with most of his immediate and extended family having personal trauma from the battles, seeing it all first hand. It was different though, seeing it through Din’s eyes. Just a child, in the middle of a war that he had no part in playing except to be a victim of violence, too many others had that story as well. 

_ His family stops, placing him on the ground. His parents crowd around him as another blast goes off, trying to protect him the best they could.  _

_ “Din, we love you so much.” His mother presses kisses onto his head, the three of them standing before the cellar doors.  _

_ “We need you to stay here, you’ll be safe here,” His father says, pulling him close, both hugging him.  _

Din tenses under Luke’s touch, and tears spring to Luke’s eyes. How long has he been holding this inside of him? Has he ever talked about it with anyone? 

_ Din still doesn’t scream, doesn’t say a word. He just sits there, reaching. A crack of light breaks through into the darkness that surrounds him now, and Din tries to be brave. The world shakes around him, dust and dirt falling into the cellar, Din just sits, listening to the screams, and the blaster fire. He tries to keep calm, what is he supposed to know?  _

_ That’s when the droid blasts open the cellar doors, and Din sits there powerless, he’s a kid? The droid aims, and Din clenches his eyes shut, waiting for pain. _

Din gasps, and Luke moves his hands to rest on his cheeks, stopping the memories from being pulled out of Din, but he feels a wetness there. Oh. Din’s crying. 

“It’s okay, Din, this moment is over, you’re here, you’re on Mandalore, you’re in the palace with Grogu, and you’re not alone,” Luke soothes, wiping away Din’s tears the same he had done for him only three weeks ago now. 

“The Mandalorians saved me,” Din gasps, and Luke’s heart stops, hearing Din’s unmodulated voice for the first time, rough and watery... _ perfect _ . 

“I know, and you’re here now, you’re safe here now,” Luke reaches up, brushing the hair out of Din’s face, and he can hear Din sigh, one with heaviness and the weight of trauma. 

“...Miss them, even after all this time,” Din whispers, and Luke nods, moving his hands away from Din’s face. 

“I don’t blame you, they’re your _ parents _ ,” Luke responds, making sure to emphasize the word parent, voice equally as low and quiet as Din’s. Luke’s heart aches for him, wanting to reach out and wrap his arms around Din. 

“Can’t lose anyone else that way, them just slipping through my fingers, Luke, I can’t-” Din starts to ramble, and Luke places his hands on Din’s pauldrons, trying to send calm energy into the Force. 

Quick flashes of Grogu being torn away from Din flash through Luke’s mind, a memory from Grogu’s angle, and Luke hurts from how much the duo have been through together, all they wanted was to be together, to be safe. 

“It’s okay Din, your fears are valid, and you’re safe. You’re both safe, the fear you feel is valid, accept it, understand that it doesn’t control you, that you are in charge of where you go from here, that you can live and be happy despite these fears. They will still hurt, but you are stronger than your fears, just like Grogu is stronger than his, his own fears of losing you,” Luke explains, and Grogu coos from his spot in Din’s lap. 

“It’s okay, buddy, we’re okay,” Din mumbles, reaching up and clasping a hand around Luke’s. 

They sit there like that, a group of three beings in the universe that have been affected by war and suffering, by the brokenness of the world around them, but still try to be good and kind. Luke waits until the nervous energy surrounding Din subsides, before squeezing his hand. There’s the feeling again, the one that pops up around Din, the one full of pinks and yellows. Luke gives him a smile, which he can only hope Din returns. 

“Thank you,” Din whispers, reaching another hand out to brush the hair from Luke’s forehead, a small chuckle breaks free of Luke’s chest, and Luke shakes his head at Din. 

“I should be thanking you, I know that wasn’t easy for you,” Luke grins, and Din shakes his head. 

“Thank you for understanding, for not making me feel bad about my fears, and helping me show my son that it’s okay to be afraid,” Din affirms, his voice still watery, and Luke nods, his smile turning soft, tilting his head to the side. 

Luke cannot believe he gets to know a man full of such heart, and kindness, that despite everything he’s been through, he’s still here, he’s still standing, trying to be a good man, trying to show his son that there’s good in the world if you just look out for it. Din’s a good man, and an even better father. Even if Luke was admitting anything about his feelings, he knows that what he feels for Din runs deeper than friendship, and that scares Luke. 

He’s never wanted to give all of himself to someone before, not the way he wants to tell Din everything, and hear everything in return, he wants to know about his fears, the things that keep him up at night. Luke wants the good and the bad with Din, and that should scare him, that should terrify Luke to no end, but it doesn’t...it makes him feel happy. 

“Of course, Din, anything for the two of you,” Luke says truthfully, hoping Din truly understands that, that he’ll take it to heart. Din squeezes his hand back, before removing it. 

Luke sits back, moving his hands back to his lap, fingertips vibrating with the notion that he just touched Din’s face. He listens to the movements, the hiss of the helmet when Din puts it back on, before reaching up and untying the blindfold. 

Blinking, he takes a moment to adjust to the room, the last of the sunlight barely touching the corners of the ground. There is Din in front of him, looking as handsome as ever, even if there’s a touch of tiredness in his stance. Grogu looks up at Luke, eyes full of curiosity, and Luke reaches out and touches the tips of his ears. 

“I’ll listen whenever you’re ready buddy, and your  _ buir  _ is ready to listen too, you don’t have to be scared,” Luke tells him, and the child chirps, before leading into the touch. 

“Your pronunciation is getting better,” Din comments, and Luke grins, a chuckle coming out from behind his lips. 

“ _ Vor entye, _ ” Luke says, proud of himself for remembering how to say thank you, and Din laughs, shaking his head. 

“Maybe not, actually,” Din teases instead. 

If Luke fakes a gasp, and pushes Din’s shoulder, while Din laughs at him, as a way to calm Din down and keep his mind off of what just happened, he won’t admit it.

* * *

“You and Din seem to be getting close,” Cara comments, after a particularly difficult sparring session for the both of them, which ended with Luke on his ass, and Cara groaning a couple of feet to the side. 

“It comes with the territory of training his only son,” Luke quips, rubbing out his neck from when Cara threw him over her shoulder. 

“HA! So he did tell you to call him Din!” Cara whips around, pointing a finger at Luke accusingly. 

Luke puts his hands up, “In my defense, he gave it to me, I didn’t ask for it.” 

Cara laughs, nodding her head, “It’s good though, that Grogu has someone else in his life like that, I can tell you being around makes them both very happy,” 

Cara smiles, like she knows something that Luke doesn’t, and Luke narrows his eyes. 

“What do you mean by ‘someone else in his life like that’, Cara?” Luke questions, an eyebrow quirking up in confusion. 

Cara just smirks, shrugging her shoulders before turning to start walking away. “I have to go meet Boba for a meeting, talk later yeah?” 

“Wait!” Luke tries to get her attention, but she vanishes away into the hallway. 

Shaking his head, he collects his yellow jacket, clipping his sabers back to his belt, he tries not to focus too much on what she could have meant with that statement, as he makes his way back to his rooms. Mandalorians are so fucking weird.

* * *

_ “Happy Birthday, Luke!! We love you so much, we wish we could be there with you, but hopefully we’ll be with each other soon!”  _

Projected from his wrist comm, Luke watches the faces of his family, all squished together so they fit in the screen, smiling and laughing, the years of each of their faces almost vanishing in front of Luke’s eyes. His father pushes on Aunt Ahsoka’s montrals to get in the frame more, which gets a remark from Uncle Obi about them acting like children, even after all this time. 

The images bring tears to Luke’s eyes, laughing as the adults all start arguing about the video, with his mother finally yelling, “ _ This was supposed to be a nice video for Luke, his first birthday away from us, and you fools-”  _

The message cuts out, and Luke is left sitting on the bench in the garden, staring at the place where his family once was, and loneliness creeps into his bones, the deep longing to just leave, drop everything and return home, comes back to sit in his chest. He takes a couple of shaky breathes, trying to ground himself. Luke knows he’ll be seeing Leia soon, but Force, it had been too long since he was surrounded by all of them, just laughing and joking, and being a family. 

He’s gotten comfortable here, still getting used to the way the Mandalorians function. Still too scared to wander outside the Palace, he has observed the little moments between the citizens, he doesn’t want to get too attached to the people here, he’s already going to have a hard time leaving the ones he’s become close too...but maybe he’ll have to get over being nervous about when he has to leave them all, leave Cara, Din and Grogu, since that was still months off at this point, and start to live again. Luke’s enjoyed how familial it all feels here, that despite missing home so much, there are still pieces he can find the sense of family in. 

Leaning his head back, he looks up to the sky, a beautiful blue above him, not a cloud in the sky today, it’s nice, Luke hopes it’s nice on Naboo today too, knowing Leia will be visiting home, probably with Han in tow, that should make his father ecstatic, hopefully his family can have a nice evening together, even if he’s not there to be there with them. 

He closes his eyes for a moment, before feeling Grogu’s presence tottle into the garden, Din’s silver aura following quickly on his trail. Luke turns his head in time to see Grogu round the corner, Grogu coos and makes grabby hands towards Luke, who smiles and reaches down to pick him up. The child reaches his hands out to touch Luke’s face, grabbing onto Luke’s cheeks, to bring their foreheads together. 

“Grogu, you move too fast, your old man can’t keep up,” Din jokes as he comes around the corner. 

Din slows down when he sets eyes on Grogu and Luke, Grogu sitting back in Luke’s arms at the sound of his father’s voice, they both glance up at him. Luke gives Din a bright smile, already feeling a bit better about the day now that they’re both here.

“Everything okay, Din?” Luke asks, and Din nods, moving to sit down next to them. 

Din takes a moment before responding, a low whisper, “I’ve never seen him do that with anyone else,”

“Do what with anyone else? Bump foreheads? Were you trying to headbutt me buddy?” Luke jokes, and Grogu giggles as Luke tickles his stomach a bit. Din shakes his head. 

“Well, yes, but for...for Mandalorians, it’s a way to show affection, a Keldabe Kiss, which translates to headbutt from Mando’a, but uh...he only does that with me.” 

Luke’s head whips up to meet Din’s visor, only seeing himself reflected in it. Luke’s mind searches for what that could mean, hopefully it’s just a side effect of their training bond. He doesn’t want to replace Din as Grogu’s father, he doesn’t want him to worry that Luke is just going to up and take him with him when he leaves. But, then, Din lets out a chuckle, reaching over to touch Grogu’s ear, Luke feels the happiness radiating off the two of them, almost like a feedback loop, building up around the three of them and Luke calms down. 

“Well, that was very kind of you, little one, a nice birthday present for me,” Luke says, before he realises what he said, a flush rushing to his cheeks. 

“It’s your birthday?” Din asks, and Luke nods, “Happy Birthday, Luke.” 

Luke’s smile grows, and he laughs a bit, “Thank you, turning the big twenty-four today, first birthday away from home, which feels strange, but it’s okay.” 

“I’m sorry,” Din answers, and Luke shrugs. 

“It’s alright, I’ll just have to ask Cara to watch over my call with them later tonight,” Luke tells him, bringing Grogu closer to his chest, before rising to his feet, “Would you like to walk with me? It’s a beautiful day.” 

Din takes a second before responding, something tense about his stance. He glances at Grogu in Luke’s arms before looking back at Luke, helmet making larger movements, so used to the micro-movements of making a show of where he is looking, before softening. 

The feeling swirls around Din in matching pink tones, as he nods his head, slowly rising to stand next to Luke, “I’d like that.”

* * *

“Cara, are you ready for the call? I’m supposed to call soon, and if I keep my mother waiting, I’ll be dead meat,” Luke asks, as they pass each other in the hallway later that evening. 

Cara tilts her head to the side, moving in the opposite direction of Luke’s suites, “Din didn’t tell you?” 

“Tell me what?” Luke questions, his turn to tilt his head to the side, eyebrow raised, waiting for her response.

“Din said you don’t need a monitor for your calls anymore, that you’re allowed to make as many calls as you need too, whenever, and no one needs to watch over you anymore,” Cara explains, before turning and walking away. 

Luke slows, and stops in the hallway. He smiles to himself, thinking about what he told Din earlier, and starts walking back to his rooms. The hallway echoes with his lone footfalls, and excitement zings underneath his skin. It’s been so long since he talked to his whole family together, he tries to keep his pace to a normal speed, as people pass him in the hallway, twisting and turning until he reaches his rooms. 

Setting his things down on the desk, he calls his parents, and breaks into a large grin when their faces, along with Leia, Aunt Ahsoka, Uncle Rex and Uncle Obi’s faces fills the empty space in front of him, and tears fill his eyes. 

“ _ HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”  _ Their voices chorus together, and Luke feels warm, wrapped in the loving embrace from his family, even through all the distance that sits in between them. A tear rolls down his cheek, and he lets out a watery chuckle. 

“I miss you all so much...”

* * *

All Luke wants is a nice bath, a cup of hot chocolate and no one to talk to him for five days. 

Luke sighs as he starts to collect his things from the table, another Council meeting done for the day. Luke is tired, and quite frustrated with Bo-Katan’s continued attempts to slow down the treaty, making Luke’s job much more difficult. He lets everyone else slowly filter out of the room, with a promise to Cara that he will meet her in his suite later for a round of drinks, because she claims they both need it. 

He makes his way over to the window, staring out onto the city below. Children ran about after their school days, and there was a little market that seems to be a permanent fixture, where the farmers who were trying to re-cultivate the lands would sell their spoils. All the fruit always looks so delicious, and Luke wishes he had more courage to brave the streets of Kedable, but there was just so much that Luke didn’t know, his _ Mando’a _ was awful, which the  _ Mand’alor _ himself confirmed. 

“Have you gotten the chance to visit yet? You know you’ve always been allowed to go outside the palace, right?” 

Luke turns, smiling as Din walks in, the red cape standing out against the blue tones of the room. Din always takes Luke’s breath away. 

“Sorry, I forgot my halopads,” Din says, moving over to grab them, and Luke nods, before turning back to look down at Din’s people. 

“No, I haven’t. My  _ mando’a _ is still so bad that I worry that someone will try to ask me a question and I’ll get all flustered, and I’m always scared of being recognized because of Theed and Coruscant...and I’m ranting a bit,” Luke babbles, grimacing at how he sounds. Din lets out a chuckle.

Din walks over to where Luke stands, looking out the window as well, “You’re the same Ambassador who knows seven different languages, and you’re getting stuck on  _ Mando’a _ ?” 

“Well, I can understand eight if you could shyriiwook, but a lot of people don’t. I had tutors for all those languages, I was supposed to be a politician, remember?” Luke jokes, and Din nods, turning to face Luke a bit. 

“I thought Jedi weren’t supposed to brag,” Din teases, and Luke rolls his eyes, but gives him a smile anyways. 

Luke teases him right back, “Good thing I’m not a Jedi then.” 

“Come on,” Din says, already starting to move out the door, and Luke gives him a look of confusion. 

“What?” 

“Your  _ Mando’a _ is terrible, but you do happen to be close to the  _ Mand’alor _ , so  _ olaror bat,  _ you’re gonna experience what Mandalore really is like, not just Bo-Katan pouting or Boba getting frustrated with her _. _ ” Din gestures towards the door, and Luke’s lips curl up into a grin. 

‘Alright,” Luke breathes, moving quickly to catch up to Din. 

They walk in silence the rest of the way, handing off their halopads to the guards at the doors. The last time he had been outside of the palace was when he landed, all those months ago, when he was a different man, even barely so. Luke feels braver lately, like he can fight back against the nay-sayers, the rumor mills of Coruscant and the whispers of Galaxy that doesn’t know him, only the idea of him. 

Luke can’t believe he didn’t do this sooner, as the rush of the speeders hit his ears, all the people talking and chatting, moving around the city so easily, going to work and school, and these were the people Luke was hellbent on protecting, the humanity staring him right in the face, and the Force sings with happiness around these people, they all seem content.

The realness of the people in front of him almost brings tears to Luke’s eyes, he was so obsessed with what the rest of the galaxy thought about his actions here, about what the Senate was thinking about the treaty, all such selfish thoughts that had a bigger meaning to him, but this is what it meant to care for people, it’s too know them, to live among them. 

Din stands next to him the whole time, nodding and waving when people stare at the two of them, and Luke wonders how often he walks around like this, and how much Luke has missed out on seeing Din in his element, as  _ Mand’alor _ , outside of the humdrum of everyday politics. Din’s people light up when he passes, large smiles on their faces, and it reminds him of following his mother around Theed when he barely reached her hip.

“ _ MAND’ALOR _ !”

A gaggle of children, only about six or so, screeching as they run towards the two of them, a variety of faces and helmets in front of them. None of them look over the age of ten, a variety of races amongst them. They’re all so happy, filling the Force around them with positive energy, happiness, and pure unadulterated childhood joy. They are practically vibrating with excitement right now. 

_ “ _ _ Jate tuur, adikes,”  _ Din says, as he crouches down to their level. Luke stands off to the side, just a silent observer to how Din interacts with his people, even young foundlings. 

“ _ Jate tuur, Mand’alor,”  _ They all chime back, which brings a smile to Luke’s lips. 

“How is Grogu?” A small mirialan boy queries, which pulls the loving feeling that Luke has come to categorize with Din thinking about Grogu, out of Din’s chest. 

“Grogu is good, I will bring him by soon so he can have a visit. How is training going?” Din asks them, and grins break out on their tiny face. 

One of the children, one with a golden helmet, answers first, “ _ Alor'ad _ Vizsla is teaching us about swords this month, we’re using kendo sticks to practice! Lele is the best at it, she hits  _ Alor'ad  _ the most out of anyone!” 

“That sounds very interesting, you know my  _ burc'ya,”  _ Din turns to gesture to Luke, who gives them all a bright smile, getting some tiny waves in return, “He fights with two swords, he calls them sabers, instead of one, and they are like the Darksaber, they glow, they’re much prettier, though.” 

Luke can feel his crystals hum in response to Din’s praise, as the children turn their attention onto him, the ones without helmets staring at him in awe. Din gestures for him to come closer, which Luke does tentatively, crouching down to their level with Din. 

“Are you a  _ Jetii? _ Only  _ Jetii  _ have swords like that,” Another one of the children questions, tilting his head when looking at Luke’s sabers, and his unfortunate choice in clothing today. Din lets out a small chuckle, as Luke starts to open his mouth to say something. 

“Gods, Alakan! You can’t just ask someone if they’re a  _ Jetii _ !” A young girl yells, which breaks a laugh out of Luke, and the feeling from Din is surrounding him, a quick glance over shows Luke that Din is staring right at him.

“It’s alright,  _ ad’ika.  _ No, I’m not a  _ Jetii,  _ but I was trained by some for a very long time, they’re very dear to me,” Luke explains, unclipping his sabers from his belt and holding them to show them, “These are my lightsabers, you’re right that they are a  _ Jetii  _ weapon, but theoretically, anyone can train with them. The  _ Mand’alor’s  _ sword is also a lightsaber but, unlike mine, it is very important to you people and what it means to be your ruler.” 

Luke glances back over to Din, who is still staring at Luke, and he gives the man a soft smile, before clipping his sabers back to his belt, and looking at the children, the feeling surrounding the two like a warm blanket on a cold night. Pushing past that, Luke reaches out to the Darksaber, understanding that it’s now an inherent part of Din, no matter what. 

“Maybe Ambassador Skywalker-Naberrie could come teach your cohort about lightsabers one day, show off a little bit?” Din offers, and Luke’s eyes can’t help but be drawn to the magnetic man again. 

The children look at Luke expectantly, and all Luke can do is nod, trying not to blush, breaking out into the largest smile. The group whoops and cheers, the excitement from them rolling over Luke, mixing with the feeling from Din, and Luke...Luke is happy. 

“Okay  _ adikes,  _ I have to show the Ambassador some more things before we get back to serious work, so I think you guys should go find Vizsla and show him what I taught you last week while he was sick,” Din tells them, slowly rising. 

The children screech, yelling out goodbyes before all sprinting away, their laughter infectious, their little feet running off. 

“I taught them how to fight someone who is bigger than them, I’m hoping Paz gets a taste of his own medicine, he stuck them on me in front of a very important meeting with the Republic once,” Din explains, turning to face Luke. 

“Leia and I used to see who could piss our father off the fastest at big fancy parties, with in our Uncle Obi’s words, ‘an inappropriate use of the Force’, so I understand,” Luke laughs, a smile almost permanently etched into his face at this point. 

“You were good with them, you’d make a good teacher for them. I think it’s time...that maybe...our cultures should try to understand one another,” Din declares, standing up a bit straighter, and Luke moves closer before he can stop himself, reaching out to touch Din’s bicep. 

“I think so too. You’re amazing with them too. You’re a good man, Din.” 

They stand like that for a while, before Luke reluctantly pulls his hand away. Looking around the market, the people stealing glances at the two of them, finally not nervous of knowing these people, Luke wants to see more, to know more, about Mandalore, about the Mandalorians...about Din. 

So, Luke asks for that, “Show me more.” 

The feeling that breaks out of Din’s chest almost takes Luke’s breath away, so warm and caring, as bright as the sun, and Luke...no. Luke won’t use that word, he won’t think that word, he won’t allow himself to get this far ahead of himself. 

“Of course,” Din’s voice is barely a whisper amongst the crowd, and Luke smiles, soft and true. 

Din gestures his head towards some of the stands. Together, they make their ways to the various stands, Din teaching him the names of fruits and vegetables, introducing him to the vendors and the farmers. Din insists on paying for the spoils they pick up, placing them in bags and carrying them for him. Luke tries _ mando’a  _ and smiles as Din makes fun of him for mispronouncing the words, savoring the way he always corrects him, slow and steady. He explains bits and pieces of how the people of Mandalore function for everyday life. Luke learns about the _ Resol’nare _ , the six actions that one needed to take to become a Mandalorian. 

“We have somewhat phased out the armor portion of the  _ Resol’nare,  _ attempting to let the Mandalorians who grew up exclusively under Duchess Satine’s rule feel comfortable, but we still encourage clans to teach it. I understand that I was raised under a very strict version of the creed, while it might be The Way for me, I want everyone to make their own choices as Mandalorians, that’s what it means to be a family, to be a Mandalorian.” 

They walk through Keldable, the sun slowly setting, Din pointing out places that he’s learned to appreciate here, some secret gardens that aren’t frequented. Luke loves listening to every word that comes out of Din’s mouth, poetic in a simple way, excited about teaching Luke all he knows, and Luke asks various questions. Din tells him stories about the early days of his rule, of his childhood and growing up as a Foundling. Luke can’t believe he ever thought of Din as a stoic man, someone with no emotion. There is so much feeling in him, and love and care bursting out of the man. Luke wants to be around this forever, if he would ever be allowed too. 

On their way back, the sun resting on the horizon, there is one last market stand left open, one full of the most beautiful smelling flowers that Luke has ever experienced. An armored woman runs the stand, starting to put them away. Luke finds it a bit sad. 

“Those smell amazing, I don’t think I’ve ever smelt anything like that in my life,” Luke comments as they make their way past. 

Din looks over to the flower stand before turning, taking a glance at Luke before saying, “Wait here.” 

Luke does what he asks, looking a bit confused as Din makes his way over the stand, greeting the merchant, shaking his head when the armored woman tries to offer a single flower, he points to a bouquet, _ mando’a  _ hanging in the air, and quite obviously, insists on paying for the flowers, digging his fingers in a pouch that sits on his belt. He turns, making his way back over to Luke, the silver aura around him bright and shiny, with bits of pinks, yellows and golds shimmering. 

Luke is amazed by the man, face broken open in a grin as Din reaches the bouquet out towards him. 

“For you. They’re called vormur flowers, one of the only ones native to Mandalore.” 

Their fingers brush as Luke takes them from Din, a jolt of electricity runs up Luke’s arm, zinging under his skin. The flowers are a soft creamy white, with beautiful pink tips, and a yellow center. Luke brings them up to his nose, taking a deep breath inwards. 

_ Wonderful. _

“Thank you,” Luke whispers, and Din nods. 

“ _ Gar're olarom, cyar'ika _ ,” Din breathes, taking a step closer to Luke, who looks up into the visor. 

“I know you said you’re welcome, but I don’t know the last word,” Luke admits, a small blush rising to his cheeks. 

“That’s alright, I can tutor you,” Din teases, both of them starting to move back towards the palace, the last people in the day market, “Cause, apparently, you’re not smart enough to know nine languages without tutors. Consider it a belated birthday present.” 

Luke scoffs and tries to wack Din, who slides out of the way too quickly, both of them laughing like school children, as they continue to banter back and forth, making their way back home.

* * *

Luke moves with his sabers through the movements, slowly stretching and reaching, each change in his stance deliberate. He remembers doing these same movements with Leia by his side all those years ago, his father meditating quietly next to them. 

It’s been a stressful couple of days of politics, with the Senators getting ready to be inducted into the Senate on Coruscant in the next week, so much planning and organizing, and Luke was wired, couldn’t even fall asleep in order to have nightmares. Luke wasn’t ready to step foot on Coruscant again, even if that meant seeing Leia and Uncle Obi again. 

So, sabers. 

Luke likes the movements, eyes remaining shut as part of the meditation process, always calming him down as he worked his way through them. He can feel the Force moving through his limbs, running through his veins, grounding him. The kyber crystals in his sabers sing with each change in direction, each step that he takes. Calmness flows over him like a wave, reminding him that he is still here, far away from Coruscant, from the things that he is afraid of, that he is somewhere he can feel safe. The moonlight dances on his skin, starlight falling down onto him like a blanket, the cool night air creating a relaxing place for him to let his worries float away. 

Bringing his body back together, he disengages his sabers, sinking onto the ground. Luke places them in front of him, continuing to connect with the Living Force, the connection between him and everything else in this galaxy. He can feel himself break free from the physical world, falling into it all. When he is here, he is capable of connecting with his sister planets away, checking in on his parents, where they move around safely on Naboo. 

The Force, despite their complications with the nightmares, has always been a comforting place for Luke to go to in moments like these. Luke understands that the Force chose him for a reason, and while he didn’t have to like that, he understood it was for a bigger purpose than himself. The Force flows beautifully around him, connecting him to the universe through colors and feelings, through thoughts and emotions. 

Tonight, though, he focuses on Mandalore. Mandalore was breathtaking like this, just so full of life and love, the connections between clans strong and sturdy, holding it all together. Luke has been surprised to find Mandalore so calming, due to the stereotypical aggressive nature that was supposed to come with Mandalorians, but Luke has learned to appreciate it anyways. 

Finding tendrils, Luke follows them to the Force Signatures he can recognize. Boba paces around while talking to a Force signature that Luke barely can identify as Fennec, still so fuzzy in Luke’s mind, someone he hasn’t fully made a connection with yet. There’s still plenty of time for that though. Cara sleeps soundly, no dreams floating around her, just relaxing, and Luke won’t comment later on the fact that Bo-Katan sleeps next to her, equally as relaxed. 

Good for them. 

Grogu sleeps soundly in his room, at least Luke assumes it’s his room, two guards standing by the door. Dreams fill the Force around him, full of frogs, shiny things and blue cookies. It makes Luke happy. 

Then, well, there’s Din, bright and shiny Din, wandering around the palace, wide awake, thoughts almost breaking through his helmet, he seems to be thinking them loud enough, but Luke isn’t a mind reader, and doesn’t want to get even a sense of what could be occupying those thoughts. 

Instead, Luke reaches out to the Darksaber. The pulsing energy that surrounds it intrigues Luke. It’s not evil, no not by many means, it could never be. It’s also not broken like a red kyber crystal, one that screams in pain. Luke lets himself think of Vader, before letting the thoughts float away. The Darksaber is good, something that was made to connect the Jedi and The Mandalorians together, but they were both broken people, so the Darksaber followed the Mandalorians, a path of brokenness and heartache ahead of it. Luke feels it, he understands it...it reminds him of what he feels like some of the time, being able to stare directly into a path littered with pure pain and suffering, on all parts, on all accounts. 

However, in one simple breath, Luke understands the saber, knows what it means. It is all the Mandalorians at once, armored and screaming, bloodied and defensive, ready to fight whoever tries to hurt their planet, but at its core, it’s all the Mandalorians at once, kind and understanding, a vibrant people with kind intentions, despite what others might think. 

The Darksaber is Din. Purely and without any doubt in Luke’s mind. He understands it now, understands why the Darksaber felt like that to Luke, clawing at his mind, because it was trying to protect Din...from a Jedi. 

“Luke?” 

Luke opens his eyes, and sees he’s hovering a couple feet above Din, who stands below him, a curious energy spinning around him, almost amused. 

“Oh, whoops,” Luke laughs. 

He picks his sabers out of the air, placing them back on his belt, before slowly lowering himself down. Almost instinctively, Din reaches a hand out to steady him as he lands, wrapping around Luke’s right wrist right where his birthmark is. 

“What were you doing?” Din questions, and Luke smiles, a flush rolling over him, neither of them moving apart just yet. 

“A lot of anxiety tonight, um, I was meditating, going through some old qigong movements that Master Windu taught me one of the first times he came to visit after we told the council about my nightmares. He was very kind, wanted to make sure I was letting myself feel the things I felt. So sometimes, I go through the movements before I meditate, uh, connect with my sabers, connect with the Force.” Luke tells him, feeling a bit sheepish at how Din found him. 

“So you float?” 

Luke lets out a laugh, “That happens sometimes, when I get too far away, it’s uh-” 

Din cuts him off, “Breathtaking. It was...I’ve never seen you so calm, I had no idea you could do something like that.” 

Luke opens his mouth, trying to find words, but his mind is blank. He blinks, and he is sure his face is bright-red, but he smiles, ducking his head, very aware of Din’s gloved hand still holding his wrist. 

“Uh, thank you, I...yeah, if you think that’s impressive, you should see me in a fight up close,” Luke jokes, taking a step forward, trying to be braver than he has in the past, and Din meets him halfway. 

“Maybe I should, would you be up for a late-night spar?” He inquires, and Luke’s mouth is dry, his mind swimming with the feeling pouring off Din, feeling a bit hazy. 

“I would, saber against sabers?” Luke finds himself just enough to offer it, and Din hesitates, “It’s okay, I’ll be okay.”

Slowly releasing Luke’s wrist, Din nods, taking a couple of steps backwards, before tentatively taking the Darksaber off his belt. Luke does the same, kyber crystals much more lively than they were earlier. He engages his sabers, listening to the hum as they power on. 

The Darksaber ignites, and this time, Luke understands it, it has stopped screaming, it’s singing, the stories of its people. Din tilts his head at Luke’s calmness, and he just gives him a smile. 

Taking a deep breath, Luke shuts his eyes. 

_ I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me, I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me, I am one with Force and the Force is with me, I am- _

Unlike his sparring session with Cara or the one fight with Paz, Luke moves first, a sense of adjacency in his movements, almost trying to prove something to himself. Din smoothly brings his saber up to block Luke’s swing, using his vambrace to block Luke’s other saber. 

Taking a big step backwards, Luke bends backwards to dodge Din’s large swing, he moves the Darksaber like it weighs nothing, nothing about the heavy beskar in his hand. Each move Luke makes, Din counters back just as smoothly. The sounds of plasma screeching against plasma invigorates Luke. 

The easy back and forth was smooth, the clash of the saber against saber is exciting, something Luke has been missing since coming here and not being able to spar with one of his various family members on the daily. Din is a good fighter, scratch that, an amazing fighter, and that shouldn’t make Luke feel as warm as it does. 

Luke crosses his sabers as Din bears down, both putting their weight behind the blows, but Luke flips backwards, trying to put some distance in between the two of them. They circle around each other, all three sabers humming softly in the night. The green illuminates Din’s beskar armor, and something licks up Luke’s spine, finding it attractive. 

Adjusting his grip, Luke decides to launch back towards Din, trying to catch him off-guard with his speed. Jumping up, he bears down on Din, who uses one of his vambraces and then the Darksaber to deflect the hits. He pushes Luke back, getting Luke to do another set of backflips, as he swings. Luke is on his knees, sabers crossed. 

Quickly, Luke disengages his shorter saber, sending it back to his belt, then moves his free hand out, using the Force to set Din stumbling back a bit, one of his leaving the Darksaber to catch his balance, obviously not used to the Force being used against him. Luke takes this opportunity to re-engage his shorter saber, catching the Darksaber on both sides, twisting around, his back to Din’s chest. 

He steps hard on Din’s foot, who lets out a grunt, getting him to loosen his grip on the Darksaber, twisting his sabers around, sending it flying, before Luke disengages both of his sabers. He spins around, wrapping an arm around Din’s neck, turning the two of them so Din falls backwards onto his back, and Luke caging him in with his knees on either side of his hips. Quickly, Luke engages his shorter saber, hovering over the edge of Din’s helmet, his other hand on the side of Din’s helmet. 

Din says it before Luke gets the chance to even ask for it, “I yield.”

It’s the closest they’ve ever been...and he’s straddling Din, and Din has his hands on his hips, Luke realizes. Both of them are still breathing heavily, but neither of them make any sudden movements. Luke stares into the visor, no longer searching for the man behind the helmet, the green of his saber burning against the beautiful silver beskar. Din moves his head up, and Luke moves closer too, his face hovering so close to Din’s helmet. 

“Luke,” Din whispers, and Luke comes back to himself, suddenly very aware of the position they’re in, and how compromising it looks. 

He clamors away from Din, disengaging his saber. In his quickness to put some distance between them, he stumbles falling back on his ass. Din sits up, staring at him, before a laugh breaks out of his chest, and Luke quickly follows, both of them giggling like school girls, and Luke is in...no, he refuses still, to even think it in his mind. 

“I don’t think there are any tips I can give you, you’re...you’re an amazing fighter” Luke remarks, smiling widely at him, and Din shrugs, “Does this mean I technically won the Darksaber, does this make me the King of Mandalore?” 

Din lets out another large laugh, a bit sharper than the others, “If every time I lost a sparring match meant I lost the Darksaber, I think Boba would have been  _ Mand’alor _ a long time ago.” 

Luke laughs, while Din slowly gets up, dusting off his pants, before reaching a hand out to Luke, who gladly takes it, after clipping his sabers back to his belt. When he’s upright, Luke moves to take his hand out of Din’s grip, but he tightens it. Luke looks at the visor.

“How did...why didn’t you react the same way to the Darksaber as last time,” Din wonders. 

Luke answers, “I understand it...that’s what I was doing, trying to connect with it...it was...screaming first, as a defense, to protect you from Jedi, or Force-Users, but...I understand it. It’s, just, it’s you, Din.” 

Din doesn’t say anything right away, almost meditating on the words, the feeling, the pinks and the yellows, pours out from behind Din’s beskar, surrounding the two of them, almost pulling them closer. 

“I hope you know that you’re an amazing fighter, Luke, you’re just...incredible...you, you’re  _ dral, _ ” Din says, all breathy like that, making Luke’s head spin, “Goodnight.” 

Din takes his hand away, taking a couple steps backwards, Luke’s eyes still connecting with the visor on his helmet, it hasn’t looked away from him once since the end of their sparring session. Din reaches down, and clips the Darksaber back to his belt, before making a show of looking Luke up and down, and then turning to walk back into the palace. 

“Goodnight,” Luke whispers to the empty space around him, the warmth of Din’s hands still burning into his hips, Din’s fingers still lingering on Luke’s palm.

* * *

_ Luke stands in a field of flowers, the smell almost as intoxicating as the fresh air that surrounds him.  _

_ It smells like home.  _

_ Glancing around, Luke sees rolling hills of green and whites hit the horizon, endless blue skies too. He lets out a laugh, as the wind picks up around him, rushing through his clothes, and he feels alive.  _

_ The sun shines down on his face, and he can feel the new freckles popping up, and Luke just laughs, spinning around in the field, feeling freer than a bird.  _

_ “Luke.”  _

_ Din stands behind him, like an angel, full of sunshine reflecting back at Luke like the moon with the sun. All Luke wants to do is wrap him up in his arms. Din reaches out a hand, a beacon of hope for Luke, and he wants, he longs, he burns, tentatively taking a step forward, as if the ground won’t support him if he starts to fall.  _

_ The ground pushes back up against Luke’s bare feet, almost signaling to Luke to keep going, to keep moving forward, to take the steps that he’s scared of.  _

_ So he does, he starts running, trying to reach Din, who always just out of touch, the wildflowers brushing up against his calves, he almost touches- _

He wakes up as the ship jerks out of hyperspace, almost slipping out of his seat, before Cara catches him and props him up. 

Sheepishly glancing around the ship, he looks for any signs that someone other than Cara saw that, and he spies Din shaking his head, his shoulders matching the movement, and Luke glares, rolling his eyes. 

“Good thing you’re up, princess. We’re about to land,” Cara snickers, which earns her an elbow to the side. 

Mandalore had been so nice, while people knew his family and him from rumors, stories, media shows, it had all passed now, falling into normalcy, just another face, one more person helping Mandalore move along. Even Naboo felt a little overwhelming sometimes, especially when he was attending university in Theed. 

Coruscant, however, was a different beast, always has been. The way the Force moved around the planet suffocated Luke, pressing down on his chest until he felt like he was caving in. There was always someone seeking him out, for politics, for media, to fan and fawn over, just because of a last name that had been given to him before he took his first breaths. Leia was the one out of the two of them who could stomach it for longer, rubbing elbows with greasy politicians who just want nothing but to find ways to push forward their own selfish intentions, she was better at pushing it aside, much like their mother, realizing that this was all a game, and Leia was going to win it if it was the last thing she did. 

Glancing out the window, the view of Coruscant makes his stomach turn. He leans his head back and tries not to let the feeling get to him too much, shutting his eyes as they start to dock at the Senate building. A bit of sweat pokes at his hairline, and his palms feel clammy. 

The ship finally docks, and Luke feels her before the ramp even opens. He clenches his hands, trying to keep his jitters to a minimum, so everyone else in the ship doesn’t think he’s crazier than they already think. 

The ramp opens with a thud as it hits the pavement. Din exits first with Bo-Katan and Paz flanking him. Luke tries not to stare too much, with Din in his red cape and gold plated armor, while he starts to walk down with the Senators, and Cara next to him. Boba takes up the rear, looking like a force to be reckoned with. 

The formalness of the exit is all worth it when his eyes land on Leia, the Force surrounding the two of them with a giddiness and excitement. Mon Mothma stands next to her, and as acting Chancellor, she gives Luke a bit of a look when he tries to hide the smile on his face. Uncle Bail gives him a nod when they catch eyes, which Luke happily returns. 

Finally, part of his family stands in front of him, and Luke doesn’t feel crazy anymore, or lonely, knowing he’s going to get to hold onto both of them so tightly soon. 

“ _ Mand’alor,  _ it’s an honor to finally make your acquaintance,” Mothma greets, looking regal as ever, reaching a hand out for Din to shake. 

Din reaches out to meet hers, replying, “I’m glad that we have been able to find some agreements so far. My planet and I are looking forward to becoming a part of the Republic again.” 

“Bail Organa, senator from Alderaan,” His uncle introduces himself, shaking Din’s hand as well, and Din nods. 

“Leia Skywalker-Naberrie, senator from Naboo.” There’s a glint in his sister’s eyes as she greets Din, proud of her name, proud of where she comes from. When she glances back towards Luke, he gives her a bright and real smile, one she gladly returns. 

Din’s stance shifts, part of the tension in his body bleeding out from him. His shoulders slouch ever so slightly, at the mention of their last name. Din looks over his shoulder at him, and a blush tries to rush to Luke’s cheek when his eyes make contact with the visor. 

“I’ve heard many great things about you, Senator Skywalker-Naberrie, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Din emphasizes, and there’s that feeling again, it’s mixed with pride...but it’s not toward Din himself...it’s toward Luke. 

“Shall we?” Mon Motha encourages, shifting to the side to gesture towards the Senate building. 

Din nods, before gesturing Cara over, both of them leaning toward each other, whispering something in her ear. She nods, then turns to give Luke a wink, receiving a raised eyebrow in return. 

The precession starts moving forward again, but both Cara and Luke wait behind. Leia does too, giving their Uncle a smile when he shakes his head at them. She turns slightly, before launching herself at him, throwing her arms around Luke’s neck. The laugh that Luke lets out has been building in his chest since the last time he saw her, when she watched him fly away from Naboo. She screeches when Luke lifts her off the ground, spinning the two of them around. 

“You look awful,” She jokes, when he sets her back down on the ground, releasing him a bit to look at him, and Luke smiles.

“And you always look worse. I’ve missed you,” Luke tells her, pulling her into another hug, “I’ve lost all my twin perks. There’s no one I can talk to across the room with my Jedi Mind Powers when I’m bored at meetings.” 

“Dad is losing it without you. Always wants to spar, always wants to fix up a droid, or a speeder and gets all angsty and pouty when I have work to do,” Leia says, reaching up to attempt to ruffle Luke’s hair, which he expertly dodges. 

“Luckily, some of my comms restrictions have been lifted, so I’ll be able to call him more, get him off your back.” 

Wrapping an arm around Leia’s shoulders, he turns to smile at Cara, “Leia, I’d like to introduce you to Cara Dune, a close friend and advisor to the  _ Mand’alor _ , and one of mine as well.” 

Cara gives him a big smile, stretching a hand out to greet his sister, “It’s an honor to meet you, Senator, big fan of your work.” 

Leia meets her halfway, “Any friend of Luke’s is a friend of mine.” 

“Yeah right, that’s why you and Biggs are best friends,” Luke snorts, which earns him an elbow to the gut, which he probably deserves. 

“We should get going if we’re going to make any of the meetings that are planned for the day, Uncle Bail will kill us if we’re late,” Leia says, gloating at the way Luke had to double over and clutch his stomach, but Cara puts a hand up to stop the two of them when they start moving. 

“The  _ Mand’alor _ has given Ambassador Skywalker-Naberrie the day off to spend time with his family, and he will convince the Chancellor to allow a certain Senator from Naboo to have the day off as well,” Cara reports, and the twins glance at each other. 

“Dex’s?” Luke offers, and Leia smiles. 

“Dex’s.”

* * *

Returning to his room later that night, after eating his weight in food from Dex’s diner, and maybe a few too many drinks as well, he tries not to stumble too much. 

He feels the best he’s felt in months, he knew he missed Leia, but didn’t realize it would be this much. Being with her was so familiar, they had to constantly remind themselves to speak out loud in front of Cara so she didn’t get lost in their twin-speak. 

There’s a bag on his bed, with a note. Rubbing at his eyes a bit, to get them to focus, he sees in sweeping letters his name, and Luke thinks back to the note, the one he knows Din left for him on that sack of books all those months ago now, and it’s the same shiny navy ink, and Luke’s heart starts to race. Slowly, he turns it around. 

_ For tomorrow night.  _

_ -Din _

Luke sinks onto the bed, clutching at the note, savoring the way Din writes his own name, something so personal about seeing it on paper. He sets it down, slowly opening the bag, and it’s an outfit for the party they’re supposed to attend the next night. 

Din bought him clothes.

Luke sighs, falling back on the bed, giddy with the thought of Din picking something out that he wanted Luke to wear, and Luke presses the note to his lips, before closing his eyes, letting sleep take him into her loving arms. 

He’s so done for.

* * *

Standing on the balcony, Luke fidgets with the cape of the outfit that Din had left in his room. It’s nice, similar to something his Uncle Bail would wear, and Luke is grateful. It’s a blue high collared shirt, black pants with his fanciest boots. A gold cape wrapped around Luke’s shoulders, crossing his body at an angle, a belt wrapped around his waist. Silver gauntlets on his forearms, contrasting with the cape, but Luke feels nice, special almost. 

Luke finds himself staring out at the Jedi Temple, spires tall against the busyness of Coruscant, the Jedis of Old, the Four Masters standing guard, protecting all those who live inside, from the oldest of masters to the youngest of younglings. 

The party is loud behind him, he has a perfect view of Coruscant from the place where the event, the one for the celebration of Mandalore being one step closer to being once again a part of the Republic, is taking place...and Luke is tired. Not just from lack of sleep, but from everything lately. 

Though, looking at the Temple, illuminated in the nightlife of a planet that never truly slept, he wonders what it would have been like to grow up there, roaming hallways, learning from masters, being an anonymous face among thousands of Jedi, as it could have been, in an even more different universe. If anything, the Temple was a bright spot on the planet, so bright and full of hope, and Luke would forever be proud to be associated with a place so wonderful, even if he had his own opinions about the Council and the way the Order functioned. 

“There you are, hiding from the party?” Din’s comforting voice envelopes Luke, taking all the bad thoughts out of Luke’s head and throwing them off the balcony, “You look nice.” 

A blush rises to Luke’s cheeks, and he reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair back in place. He smiles.

“Thank you. You don’t look half bad yourself,” Luke grins and Din ducks his head down, the feeling bursting into the air. 

He’s in his gold plated armor again, which Luke doesn’t know if he prefers this one or his traditional silver beskar, but Din looks handsome either way. The red cape is replaced with a blue one, with gold trimming on the sides...oh, they match. Luke tries not to let that fact go to his head. 

“Thank you, are you having a nice time?” 

“I should be used to these kind of things, but with every offer of ‘courting’ by drunk senators that are usually only for political gain or to turn over  _ something  _ to the rumor mill, they just keep getting better and better,” Sarcasm drips from Luke’s lips, and Luke angles himself so he leans on the railing, facing Din. 

“Do you get a lot of those? ‘Courting’ proposals?” 

Humor is evident in the Mandalorian’s voice, and Luke claps a hand over his mouth, realizing how his comment sounds. A laugh escapes from behind his fingers, and soon enough, he’s doubling over at the thought of rubbing in Din’s face that he gets hit on a lot, for anything between one-night senator stands, as Leia had jokingly called them once, and political booty calls, all of that couldn’t be more of the opposite of who Luke is. Amusement surrounds Din, as he watches Luke giggle to himself, and Luke is smitten. 

“Maker, that must have made me sound so self-absorbed,” Luke giggles, wiping the tears away from the corners of his eyes. 

“A little, but I don’t necessarily disagree with the idea that no one in their right mind wouldn’t be all over you,” Din comments, and Luke gulps, a shiver running up his spine at the thought of Din finding him attractive. 

Oh, how Luke burns for him. 

“I used to not get them as bad as I do now, they all used to flock to Leia, thinking that my mother and father would never give up their prized horse,” Luke pauses, to point at himself, “For something so meaningless as a political marriage.” 

“Oh, really? When did that change?” 

Luke shrugs, turning away from Din so he didn’t see the shadow cross over his face, grimacing a bit, “When I continued with my training longer than Leia did, and went to university, and now I’m not in the Senate like my mother was or commanding armies for The Republic like my father did...and to this place, even if I am the Ambassador for them currently, I am not worthy the title of the Skywalker-Naberrie Golden Child.” 

Din hums, a low and disapproving noise, “I’m sorry that they don’t see what I do.” 

“Oh, well...thank you..” Luke stammers out, realizing he’s been staring for too long, and maybe it’s all the liquor flowing through his system but he feels warm, hot almost. 

“Would you ever do it?” 

“Hm?” 

“Have an arranged marriage for political reasons?” Din inquiries, and Luke turns back onto Coruscant, watching as a speeder gets pulled over, he smiles to himself.

“I would do it for my family if I had too, but...my parents married for love, I’d like to follow in their footsteps, have a beautiful wedding on Naboo, with my entire family...it would be nice...to have that.” Luke answers, giving Din a bright smile, and the feeling he’s come to know with Din surrounds the two of them, “Would you...marry for political reasons?” 

“Only if it was necessary for Mandalore...I’ve had proposals...Mandalorians can challenge me for marriage...I’ve never lost a fight since I became Mand’alor...but uh, I’d like to marry for love too, or something of the sort. Just, you know, have to find the right partner,” murmurs Din, and Luke looks back up at him. 

Din stares down at him, and instinctively, both of the men take a step closer to each other, close enough that Luke can hear him breath even without the modulator. 

Luke’s breath slips away like a bottle of wine at a family dinner, and Luke swears that their eyes almost meet through the visor, and he wonders if it’s an appropriate time to think about the color of Din’s eyes, the way his lips move when he speaks, everything about the man that is hidden behind the helmet but so apparent in everything he does, and it’s Din, who stands in front of him, who gave him his name at the end of a long night, and...

Luke, completely and utterly, adores this man, and the way simple words sound like thousand year old sonnets in his voice, and, Luke can’t think this way, he trains Din’s son, he’s Din’s ambassador for crying out loud, he can’t get too deep into this, and yet, he’s already drowning. 

“I never asked you how you were liking the party,” Luke breathes, and Din chuckles, turning slightly to look back at the party. 

“Let’s just say I’m much happier out here,” Din responds, shoulders shrugging before turning his attention back to Luke, a ghost of a smile in his voice. 

“That’s...nice, I’m glad you like it out here,” Luke whispers, “It’s a great view.” 

Luke turns away from Din, his face red from Din’s comments. He knows that he’s reading into what Din says much more than he should, trying to find bits of pieces of the man, to keep safe in his heart forever. His hands wrap around the cool stone railing, trying to calm himself down, center himself, trying not to float away. 

Din hums, a common occurrence in their conversations, something always being out of reach to Luke, something Din never quite says, even though Luke can tell it’s always on the tip of his tongue. He’s a man of few words, but that has never bothered Luke, he knows he can talk enough for the two of them. However, sometimes, Luke wishes he would just say it so he wouldn’t have to suffer at the silence of it all. 

“ _ Mesh’la _ ,” Din whispers, barely a sound above all the noise surrounding the two of them, and if Luke wasn’t so in tune with every little thing that Din does, he wouldn’t have even noticed him saying anything. 

Luke knows that word, it’s...it’s Luke's favorite word in all of Mando’a. 

_ Beautiful. _

Luke takes a deep breath, trying to swallow his anxiety as he glances back up at Din, who hasn’t looked away from him yet. Luke almost wishes he would, so he could suffer in silence alone, and not feel suffocated by a man who will never want him the same way Luke wants, the same way Luke  _ burns,  _ like he is both of the twin suns instead of just one of a matching set, the way Luke...loves Din. 

He’s still hesitant to even think of that word, that this is just a crush, maybe one that borders on obsession, but Luke does know that his feelings for Din run deeper than he thinks. Din takes another step forward, Luke turning to face him again, and they are so close that their chests are almost touching. Neither says anything, just simply listening to the other breath, and slowly Din starts to raise a hand as Luke starts to lean on his tiptoes, and all Luke wants to do is...

“Wormie! There you are!” Leia’s voice rings out in their silence. 

Quite quickly, both of the men take a large step backwards, Luke’s heart already aching from the space in between them. 

“Leia! How’s the party?” Luke quickly recovers, shaking the thoughts of what was about to happen out of his, moving over quickly to his twin, trying to distract her from anything she might have seen. 

Her eyes glance back and forth, not quite understanding what could have happened out here on the balcony. She looks Luke over, raising an eyebrow and through his eyes, he pleads, begs for her not to ask any questions, to not embarrass him for almost giving into his temptations. 

“It’s good, but you promised me some more drinks, so come on, we haven’t even danced yet!” She takes a few steps forward, wrapping a hand around Luke’s wrist, giving it a gentle tug as she starts making her way back inside. 

Luke glances back towards Din, who leans back on the railing. He raises a hand to say goodbye, and nods, and Luke wants to turn back, to commit to what he was going to do, but Leia gives him a harsher tug as she drags him along, and all Luke can do is give the tiniest wave back to Din, and hope he has another chance like this. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at [skywalker-swift](https://skywalker-swift.tumblr.com/)!! My ask box is always open for questions about my stories, any fic ideas, and all the dinluke headcanons. I would also love to hear from you for anything other than that, especially if you have questions about this AU! Thank you for reading, I appreciate you :D


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